


You'll Be Missing Out, And We'll Be Missing You

by AlphaElixir



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abandoned!Keith, All Time Low songs, Angst, Band Tee's, Cause the boy can sing, Cutting, Everyone's the same age but Pidge, Foster home!Keith, High School, Hot Topic, I don't know, Ikea shit, Keith likes HT, Keith's shitty parents, M/M, MCR fan!Keith, Mentions of lots of blood, Might add more if people want a conclusive ending, Normal Life, OC's - Freeform, Protective Lance, Ransomed Chapters, Self-Harm, Shopping Malls, Song fic, Sorry Keith, Soulmates AU, Suicidal!Keith, Talent Shows with Lance singing, abused keith, cause why not, cuddling in hospital beds, emo keith, keith kogane - Freeform, klangst?, lance mcclain - Freeform, lots of blood, low key fluff, traumatized kids, traumatized!Keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-31 05:58:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaElixir/pseuds/AlphaElixir
Summary: A year later his homeroom teacher notices the bruises on Lance’s arms and calls CPS. He’s held in a white room with an X-box and child friendly games while his parents argue with the care worker. He trusts his parents and he’s not stupid. He knows what’s happening while he beats Donkey Kong. His mother and father grab him two hours later after his physician comes to explain the situation. Apparently, it’s a frequent occurrence for parents who abuse their children to blame it on the skin-to-skin soulmate marks. Lance feels a little sick when his father explains the situation to him.The year after that he gets the cuts. Thin red lines going across his right and left wrists alternatively, disappearing after a day or two depending on the severity of the injury. Lance is twelve years old and he knows about this stuff. Knows what it means and how his soulmate must feel to cause it. He cries alone in his room until his older brother storms in and demands he comes down to dinner. The resulting talk removes the boy’s appetite.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This involves self-harm, read the tags.   
> Anyway, hope you all enjoy this small ficlet and let me know if you want me to continue a bit into this. I cranked it out at 3am and it's not beta read so any mistakes just pretend they aren't there. :) Enjoy some Keith angst!! I'm a slut for comments!

Keith remembers his father, large and handsome and mostly friendly. He remembers his mother vaguely; a beautiful woman with long black hair and dark violet eyes. It’s hard to remember the way they acted though. The way his mother kissed him goodbye the day she left them or the way his father smiled at him as he dropped him off at the orphanage. His father claimed to his four-year-old son that his soulmate was out there and he had to search for her. That a kid would hinder his progress in finding her. He explained soulmates to the child, how the marks across one’s skin would mimic themselves on the skin of the person he was destined to spend his life with. Keith was both fascinated and scared of the soulmate idea. But he gave it no second thought as his father turn and walked away from him.

More than their quirks or their looks Keith remembers the feelings of abandonment. The hollow ache he held in his chest every day he woke up to screaming form both kids and adults alike. Five years later, fifteen days after his ninth birthday he’s adopted out to a seemingly well off family looking for the child they can’t conceive themselves. Keith is happy to be wanted.

He feels stupid a month after the parents agree to foster him. It’s clear they only wanted the government issued checks so they chose the oldest boy they could get in hopes of a quiet, well behaved child that could essentially take care of himself. They got what they wanted. Keith learned to care for himself quickly. Bread and peanut butter were kept well stocked being the cheapest they could spend on him and still consider it food.

He remembers endless days of peanut butter sandwiches and milk for lunches. The teachers at his school gave him funny looks but never commented on his poor lunch. He’d be offended if they did. He tried hard to make the best sandwiches he could.

The abuse started in his eleventh year of life. He’d been with his foster parents for two years now, an extended stay he wouldn’t have had if he’d lived in a larger town with more available host families. The man started staying home from work, calling in sick, more and more often until it became a financial crisis in the household. The woman began yelling at him to make money and eventually found her own full-time job. Keith quietly watched as the couple fell apart. The man seemed to grow more and more frustrated and Keith had asked a simple, easy question at the wrong time. He’d received a hand across his face, the man’s small wedding ring scrapping across his check. Keith hid in his room for the next few days. The man never apologized for it.

Nearly a year later and his skin was a painting of bruises in varying colors. All hidden under the long sleeves of his shirts and the legs of his pants. The man had not stopped his abuse and had not found another job after being fired months ago. The woman worked full time and gave nearly the entirety of her check to drug dealers in the alleys of the cities nearby. She almost never came back to the little house.

On his twelfth birthday, the phone rang. The man’s parents had passed away and left their home as well as a small fortune to their only son. So a week later Keith was packed up and moved out to California, somewhere near the beach, and Keith was enrolled into a new school. He wears long sleeves to hide the cuts more than the bruises now.

In his second period class the teacher mentions soulmates and the skin-to-skin transfers and Keith holds back a scoff. His poor ass soulmate probably has parents that are enrolling him in counseling right now for the thin lines perpendicular to his wrists.  Or being held in a solitary room while CPS questions his parents about the vivid bruises across the kids skin. Keith noticed scraps and burns here and there across his body and assumed his soulmate was being a kid, much like he should be at his age.

He lays his head on the desk and listens to the teacher drone on about her own soulmate and the notes the man left on her skin with the new S-tech pen developed two months ago. He’s not sure how a teacher’s salary pays for that. The pen was developed by a group of lonely people who wanted to communicate with their soulmate, to find them faster, without carving into their skin. The pen, essentially, wrote across the skin deep enough to trigger the effect onto the soulmate’s skin without damaging either person. It was quite the popular item now days and the price tag well into the thousands.

Keith scoffs, he expects nothing but resentment from his soulmate.

* * *

 

Lance was in love. Had been in love with countless girls before and had dated one or two over the past year but none had been his soulmate. And though the girls seemed less entranced by their mystery soulmate, Lance would not give up his. The dates ended with disappointment for everyone around and Lance was left soulmate-less.

At the age of nine Lance had found the first marks of his soulmate. It appeared as a slash across his face and left him wondering what in the world had the girl done to get that? He was pretty sure it wouldn’t scar, should she take proper care of it.

His siblings made fun of the mark for the duration of it. Saying how his soulmate was probably the clumsy sort of girl with light blond hair and fragile white skin, a perfect match to his chocolatey own. Lance had frowned at them, but smiled and agreed.

As the months passed he noticed more and more purple blotches appear over his skin. He was no idiot. Lance knew, logically, that the shapes of the bruises were a bit too hand shaped to be accidental falls. He complained to his mother and father on the brink of tears, as he showed them the marks. They’d fallen silent, usually jubilant smiles falling to regretful frowns. Two weeks later Lance was taken to his local physician who stated that the colors painting their sons flesh was indeed made by his soulmate and were signs of physical abuse. However, there was nothing they could do for the child. His mother had cried with him all the way home, his father the silent sufferer of the pair. His siblings stopped making fun  of the marks and stopped making guesses about what she’d look like or act like.

A year later his homeroom teacher notices the bruises on Lance’s arms and calls CPS. He’s held in a white room with an X-box and child friendly games while his parents argue with the care worker. He trusts his parents and he’s not stupid. He knows what’s happening while he beats Donkey Kong. His mother and father grab him two hours later after his physician comes to explain the situation. Apparently, it’s a frequent occurrence for parents who abuse their children to blame it on the skin-to-skin soulmate marks. Lance feels a little sick when his father explains the situation to him.

The year after that he gets the cuts. Thin red lines going across his right and left wrists alternatively, disappearing after a day or two depending on the severity of the injury. Lance is twelve years old and he knows about this stuff. Knows what it means and how his soulmate must feel to cause it. He cries alone in his room until his older brother storms in and demands he comes down to dinner. The resulting talk removes the boy’s appetite.

Later that night, when his younger siblings are asleep, Lance brings the new discovery to his parents who can only reassure him that things will work out. It sounds like lies. He has a hard time believing them. His only wish is that his soulmate is strong enough to pull through, at least until Lance can find her and save her. Because he will. It’s his job.

Five years go by in a flash of purple and blue and black. Lance pauses in his pursuit of love and focuses on school work and summers spent with friends. He meets Hunk, the Polynesian next door and the two hit off a grand friendship. Lance spends nearly every day after school with him and eventually they run into Katie. When they first meet Lance is surprised to find out that it’s a girl. He laughs at the bulky glasses on her face and the short, wild hair sticking up at either side of her round face. She punches him in the shoulder. And so, the trio began to eat lunch together and Lance pesters her to help him with his homework. They’re telling each other about their favorite animals one day when Lance creates the nickname she will go by for years to come. She claims her favorite animal is a Pidgeon and Lance calls her Pidge from then on. Hunk does too once she assures him she doesn’t mind.

* * *

 

Keith takes his test back from the teacher and sighs when he sees the red circles across the page. Dan, his foster father, will be angry about the score and by this time tomorrow he’ll probably have a matching bruise to the set on his upper back. He isn’t sure why all of a sudden Dan’s so upset about his test scores but a month ago, when his senior year started, Dan had pushed him to get better grades, as if the A’s and B’s he’d been getting where bad scores.

Shiro smiles beside him. “It’s a good score, overall.” He has no idea how the score impacts his life.

“Uh, yeah. Studying really helped,” he replies. Shiro laughs as they leave the classroom. Their next class has the scores posted outside the room, in the commons hallway and Keith is equally as fearful of seeing this score as he was of the last one. Math has never been his strongest subject and in an attempt of getting a good grade Keith had stayed over at Shiro’s with his friend Matt and studied like crazy. He barely slept.

“-and you’re not even listening,” Shiro says. Keith turns towards him and apologizes. “No worries, you’re worried about the results, it’s normal. I’m proud that you decided to take your studies so seriously for your last year.”

Yeah, cause it was his decision. Totally.

“OH COME ON!” The yell is equal parts loud as it is obnoxious and the voice is instantly recognizable. Lance McClain stands in front of the results, hands gesturing to the papers on the wall. He’s turning from the paper to his friends and back again.

Keith is still confused by Lance. The guy had claimed to be his rival last year, and every test he’d come just barely behind Keith in every subject, despite having the computer genius as his study buddy. Granted Keith has the genius’s older brother to study with.

“You have got to be kidding me, how?!”

“Lance, calm down. Your kind of making a scene.” Hunk says. He lays a hand on the guys shoulder and he jerks away from it.

“I will beat you at something, you’re not that perfect!” He says as he storms off, both Hunk and Katie following behind. Katie’s laughing her ass off.

“That kid,” Shiro says. Keith just shakes his head and looks at the results.

The slap he gets when he shows Dan is expected and the red mark on his check throbs as he prepares dinner. The man, who Keith refuses to refer to as his father, sits in the living room watching tv most days. He still refuses to work and lives off the inheritance from his dead parents. Keith hates him.

“Boy, your soulmate would be so proud of you. A bitch through and through.”

* * *

 

“How does he keep beating me?” Lance whines to his friends after school. Pidge laughs at his complaints and Hunk rubs his back soothingly.

“Might be because he studies with Shiro and Matt, the two top students?” Hunk, ever the helpful friend, reminds him. Lance glares back at him.

“And I study with Pidge, the genius who skipped a bunch of grades. But whatever, I’m ready to waste the days away beating you two at Mario Kart.”

Pidge laughs again. “Oh yeah, McClain, like you’ve ever beaten me at Mario Kart. That’ll be the day you score higher than Keith,” she mocks. Lance huffs at her and removes his jacket. As he’s picking up the controller Hunk gasps and grabs at his arm.

“Lance, you…you aren’t…” Hunk stutters out. Lance is confused for a total of five seconds until he sees the thin white lines on his wrists again. The others had faded days ago and Lance had thought it would be a while before she’d cut again. He looks down.

“It’s not me guys.” He’s demeanor changes and Pidge becomes more alert to the change in atmosphere.

“What do you mean it’s not you?” Hunk asks. Pidge sighs.

“Your soulmate cuts themselves,” she says, no question in her voice. Lance nods.

“She’s been abused for years and around age twelve she started cutting. There’s nothing I can do, so I started focusing on school. I want to be able to provide for her with a good job when I find her. I figured by the time I graduate I’ll go to the Garrison and use the money I get as allowance to save up so I can buy that S-pen and maybe talk to her, find out where she’s at. Save her.”

The room is quiet and the tension is a palpable clog in all their throats. “I’m sorry, Lance.” Pidge says. They sit in silence for a while before Lance becomes uncomfortable and demands a game of Mario Kart to clear the air. He catches Hunk glancing at the marks every so often.

* * *

 

“You stupid!” Dan punches him in the face, knocking him backwards into the wall. “You thought I’d let you apply for the Galaxy Garrison?” He yells louder, raising his fist to punch Keith again. He shrinks back away from the towering man, hands held up to protect what he can. Dan kicks him in the thigh. Keith grits his teeth but stays where he’s at. What will he do? Run? He’d be hauled back here anyway. He’s not eighteen yet. There’s still months to go.

* * *

 

Lance notices the next morning the new bruise on his leg and the near black eye he sports. He’s lucky it’s the weekend and it will disappear before school. Hunk frets over him for a while when he sees it. They’re hanging out at Pidge’s place, Shiro and Matt laughing in the kitchen while they commandeer the living room for games. Pidge is crushing whatever game she’s been playing for a while now and Hunk is poking and prodding at his purple skin. It isn’t sore, that’s not how it works, but it will be by the time Hunk backs off.

“Come on, man, I’m fine, leave it alone.” Lance whines. Hunk continues to mother hen him until Matt and Shiro enters.

“Whoa, man, who’d you piss off?” Matt asks. Lance looks away from him. He hates explaining the situation to new people. His soulmate would probably appreciate if he stopped telling people about it. But he can’t stay quiet or lie so…

“It’s not mine. My soulmate has it,” he says. Hunk goes to explain all of it but Lance jabs him in the side with his elbow.

“Ouch, rough. That’s pretty fucked up,” Matt says. Pidge yells ditto as she leans with the car she’s driving.

“Do you have any idea who it is?” Shiro asks.

Lance shakes his head. “No. I haven’t met her I don’t think. And I have no way of talking to her to find out.”

“I have a S-pen if you’d like it. I don’t need it anymore,” Shiro says. The words don’t register for a long while and when they do Lance is out of his seat and nearly begging on his knees in front of his idol.

“What?! Yes I want it! How did you afford one?”

“Relax, Lance. My parents bought it for me last year, found it cheaper on Amazon and they knew I wanted to meet my soulmate. Allura’s coming from Great Britain next year after she graduates. We text a lot now so you’re free to have it.”

Lance nearly explodes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“No problem Lance, I’ll bring it to school on Monday.”

Lance goes home on cloud nine, excited to talk to his soulmate in two days’ time.

* * *

 

Shiro excuses himself from the conversation and leaves Keith to go over to Lance. Whatever he’s doing makes Lance smile the biggest smile he can and Keith hates that he finds it adorable. He’s had a small crush on Lance for a while but nothing that he’ll pursue. The dude is almost always talking about one of two things; their rivalry or his soulmate. How beautiful a girl she must be and how amazing it will be to meet her. Keith’s never felt particularly interested in meeting his soulmate. He’s pretty sure he’s gay but the universe has a way of fucking him over so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he ended up bonded with a girl he’s never going to be sexually attracted to. Poor girl would probably hate him for being so weak and messing up her perfect skin. 

When Shiro comes back over he picks up the conversation as if he’d never left and ignores the questioning glance Keith throws at him. Matt meets them at the school entrance and the three head to class.

After school Keith heads straight home. He’s had a rough day and the stress is building under his skin. He knows the feeling of wanting to cut but he’ll have to make dinner for Dan first. He’s been on the verge of cutting too deep lately.

When he makes it to his room and pulls up his sleeve he’s surprised by the feint writing on his arm. Just above his cuts the words ‘hello, soulmate’ is written in his skin. It doesn’t look red and blotchy like he assumes it would if they’d scratched into their arm so he assumes his soulmate is rich like Shiro and bought an S-pen.

He has no way of talking back to them other than carving into his skin and while he does cut he isn’t going to permanently carve words there. So he ignores the words and slices more cuts calmly into his skin.

‘I know you can’t reply but’ the words appear on his arm and he stops. Keith is insanely confused. Now that he knows what’s happening he notices the feel of the words writing across his skin. It’s a very gentle etching, almost like dragging a feather across his skin. The words fade out in exactly one minute.

  ‘my number is ***-****, text me?’

Keith looks at the number written across his arm and, making a decision he probably shouldn’t, quickly writes it down before it fades away. He does not, however, send a text.

‘please, I really want to meet you’ the words say. Keith scoffs. Yeah, cause an abused, self-harming teen is everyone’s dream soulmate. Keith highly doubts his soulmate would chose him given the choice.

He ignores any further messages and goes to bed. His soulmate can’t save him, no one can, so he won’t even pretend that contacting his soulmate is a good idea.

* * *

 

Lance approaches his friends less enthusiastically than yesterday. Pidge looks up from her cell phone to ask, “so how did it go?”

“It didn’t, I wrote to her. Asked for her to text me and gave her my number but I haven’t heard anything.”

“She might be worried about meeting you, maybe just keep up short, one sided conversations for now? Tell a few jokes. I’m sure she’ll warm up to you.” Hunk, ever the clear thinker, says. Lance smiles at him and nods. He’ll write a bit to her throughout the day and hopefully in a bit she’ll feel more comfortable and text him. Or call.

During lunch Lance pulls out the pen and scribbles on his arm. He waits and waits and waits and when nothing happens he reverts to pick up lines. They’re horribly cheesy but he hopes they make her laugh. Pidge scoffs at him and leaves to talk to her lab partner about the upcoming project. Hunk tries to hold a conversation with him and he’ll feel bad about basically ignoring him later. Right now he needs to show his soulmate that he’s an awesome person that she should get to know.

* * *

 

‘are you from Tennessee? Because you’re the only ten-i-see.’ Keith reads over the line multiple times before scoffing and shoving his sleeve down. His soulmate has been writing horrible pickup lines on his arm for the duration of lunch and it’s honestly distracting. He’s trying to keep it all a secret from Shiro and every time he pulls his sleeve up to look at what they’ve wrote he chances Shiro seeing his cuts. Eventually he gives up and excuses himself from the table. He pulls out his phone when he gets to the bathroom and pulls up his soulmate’s number. Against his better judgment, he’d saved the persons number in his phone and now he debates sending a text for them to shut the hell up. He’s got things to do and he can’t be rolling up his sleeve every two minutes to read a stupid pickup line.

He thumbs the screen of his phone until he feels the feather light touch on his arm again. ‘Please, I want to at least know if you’re in the same country as me…’ Keith sighs and sends a simple message to the number.

**Yes**

He doesn’t have to wait long for a reply.

**Holy cheese. K, so r u in the US?**

**Yes**

**I’m in Cali. U?**

**Same**

**JJFDKDKADK I’m so happy!**

Keith doesn’t reply to that one. He’s not sure why anyone would be happy that he’s near them. He feels a little excited anyway. His phone pings with another message.

**R U in school?**

**Yes**

**If U dont mind me asking, what schl?**

Keith debates telling them. What if they go to the same school? Keith isn’t sure he could handle his soulmate actually finding him. What if it’s a girl and she sees what he looks like and he pushes him away? He’s been abandoned exactly three times and he isn’t looking forward to a fourth. He holds his breath as he quickly types out the school and sends it. He immediately regrets it. Keith is almost to the point of pulling out his hair in his anxiety when his phone pings again.

**Holy Shit! Me 2! Would U want 2 meet up sometime**

Keith is about to type out ‘hell no’ when the bell rings. He shuts his phone off and leaves for class. He can’t focus though. His soulmate is here and wants to meet up…

* * *

 

Lance is on cloud nine. Be bounces up from his seat the second the bell rings and throws his arms around Hunk planting a huge, sloppy, kiss on the man’s check. Hunk, ever the loving person, proclaims the grossness of the act and pushes Lance’s face away from his. “Dude, what is up?”

“She talked to me! We go to the same school. Hunk, she’s here somewhere, my soulmate!” Lance is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. Hunk immediately envelopes him in a large hug, nearly cutting off his air supply. “Dude, I’m so happy for you,” he exclaims.

The lunch lady shouts at them to get going or they’ll be late. They take off down the hallway, both smiling. Pidge receives much the same treatment, though she pushes Lance off her quicker and punches him in the arm for the show of affection. Once she hears about the good news however, she smiles and congratulates him.

* * *

 

Keith turns his phone back on as him and Shiro leave school. His backpack is weighed down by all his text books and he’s feeling fatigued from the lack of sleep he’d gotten the night before. Shiro looks sideways at him.

“Keith, you okay?”

He nods as his phone powers up and a notification for two missed messages pops up. He quickly opens them.

**That’s okay, we can meet later pretty lady**

**But lets text more later, k**

Keith texts back a quick, sure, and puts his phone away. Shiro is about to ask who he’s texting when Lance comes bounding up to him pecking him on the check and hugging him tightly with thank you’s spilling from his mouth. He looks equally as shocked and confused as Keith. Neither of them mention it on the way home.

* * *

 

Lance has officially been texting his soulmate for two weeks now. They haven’t mentioned their names or addresses or anything personal. She shies away from heavy topics and immediately stops texting if he mentions meeting up. So, Lance sticks to pickup lines and various snippets of his day, and she usually replies with small comments of her own. Lance notices the lack of bruises and cuts on his arms since they started talking and is filled with joy when he thinks that it’s because of him.

It’s a Saturday when he notices the lines on his wrists again and his stomach drops. He grabs his phone and shoots off a text.

**Whats going on? I thought U stopped cutting**

**Just because we’re talking doesn’t mean my life is any better**

Lance feels like shit after ready the message. Of course, talking to him isn’t going to instantly improve her life. She’s still being abused and is probably suffering from depression.

**Oh, yeah UR right. I just thought, since I haven’t seen them in a while…**

**I can’t stop**

**I understand. I just hope U will rely on me a bit. I want to help any way I can**

The messages stop and Lance sighs as he watches two more marks appear. He falls asleep to dreams of a blond haired beauty with scars on her wrists.

* * *

 

Keith sighs. He’s been silent towards his soulmate for two whole weeks and he’s starting to feel like a dick. They obviously care about whatever person they’ve imagined their soulmate to be and he’s kind of ruining that image by being himself. The least he could do is pretend to be a great person. He’s pretty sure he’ll die before his eighteenth birthday. Dan’s been beating the living shit out of him for the last week and he will admit to having darker thoughts than just cutting recently. He’s given up on escape. There’s nowhere to go. He’s missed the Garrison sign up deadline thanks to Dan ripping up his application and he can’t afford to leave because Dan forbids him from getting a job. The man is making it impossible for Keith to leave with anything short of being a runaway hitchhiker of a plan.

He slumps back in his desk and glares at the white board. His teacher is explaining the technology of space travel and Keith is eaten up with jealousy. He’d love nothing more than to be there, up in space surrounded by stars and planets people haven’t even seen yet. But he’s stuck in a classroom dreaming about it instead.

The itch to cut hits him and he roughly scratches at his arms over his jacket sleeves. Before the end of class and his quick escape to the bathroom to relieve a bit of the pressure, the teacher announces the school’s annual talent show. Keith never participates but Shiro drags him to it every year. He supposes this year will be the same.

* * *

 

Lance has the stupidest idea ever. He knows it’s dumb but it’s something and he’s going to need a bit of help. “Okay guys, I’ve called this meeting because my soulmate stopped talking to me and I want to cheer her up a bit. So, I’ve decided to do a very stupid thing. I’m going to sing to her during the talent show and I need the perfect song. Something with meaning.”

Pidge sighs and shakes her head. “That is a dumb idea. I’ll start searching for songs.” Lance smiles at her.

Hunk claps his hands and pulls out his phone. “I know how to play drums and Pidge knows guitar, we could totally play a song.”

Lance is over the moon that his friends support him.

“Oh my god, it’s perfect.” Lance stops the video when the song ends. He’s grinning from ear to ear. She’ll either love it or absolutely resent him for basically outing her to the school but he hopes it’s the former.

* * *

 

It’s the day of the talent show and Keith knows he’s going to regret being dragged to it. Shiro plants him in the center of the front row with Matt on his other side in case he tries to escape. He totally would too.

The stage lights come on and he’s blinded for a moment as the principle takes the stage. He greets the students and makes a short speech about being respectful before introducing the first act.

Keith has to admit by the fifth act he’s kind of enjoying himself. The acts are entertaining and he loves the magic acts. They’re so bad it’s hilarious. Not to mention the fluffy bunny that escapes and lands in his lap when it stage dives. Rabbit has a since of rock and roll.

The principal introduces the last act and Keith is surprised when Lance and his friend enter the stage. Matt seems just as surprised to see Katie up there. Shiro cocks his head in confusion but looks no less excited.

When Lance starts talking the blood in his veins freeze and for a second he’s sure he’s not breathing anymore.

“Hi, I’m Lance McClain and these are my friends, Hunk and Pidge.”

“What the hell is a pidge?” Matt mumbles to the side.

“And I have a confession. I have a soulmate, as we all do, and I know they hurt themselves. I’ve been texting them for a bit and I know they attend this school. I’m not trying to out them or anything, and I don’t want them to get hurt so please be nice. I just ask that she come to me, any time, for anything. I’ll accept her no matter what she looks like. I just want to meet her. So, I found this song and thought, what better way to show my sincerest emotions than singing a song. This is Missing You by All Time Low.”

The stage lights dim a bit and Keith can breathe again but his heart is tattooing the inside of his chest and his veins itch under his skin. When they start to play Keith bites his lip and tries to keep his face as calm as possible, least Shiro look over and notice somethings off.

_I heard that you’ve been_

_Self-medicating in the quiet of you room,_

_Your sweet, suburban tomb._

_And if you need a friend,_

_I’ll help you stitch up your wounds._

_I heard that you’ve been_

_Having some trouble finding your place in_

_The world._

_I know how much that hurts,_

_But if you need a friend_

_Then please just say the word_

Keith’s breathing fast now. The words are nearly dancing around him, taunting him. Lance’s voice is soothing and melodic but the words seem harsh, jabbing him for his mistakes of cutting, nearly stinging the ones on his arms.

 

_You’ve come this far,_

_You’re all cleaned up,_

_You’ve made a mess again,_

_There’s no more trying,_

_Time to sort yourself out._

_Hold on tight,_

_This ride is a wild one,_

_Make no mistake,_

_The day will come when you can’t cover_

_Up what you’ve done,_

_Now don’t lose your fight, kid,_

_It only takes a little push to pull on through,_

_With so much left to do,_

_You’ll be missing out,_

_And we’ll be missing you_

He turns to look at Shiro and he can see tears forming at the base of his eyes. The guy has always been a softie and this probably means a lot to him. It would be so much worse if he knew. A glance at Matt is a mistake. Matt’s looking at him with a mixture of confusion and awe, as if he’s on the cusp of figuring everything out. Keith needs to leave.

 

_I heard that you’ve been_

_Having some trouble finding your place in_

_The world._

_I know how much that hurts,_

_And if you need a friend_

_Then please just say the word._

_You’ve come this far,_

_You’re all cleaned up_

_You’ve made a mess again,_

_There’s no more trying,_

_Time to sort yourself out_

As the chorus plays again Keith excuses himself and slides out past Shiro. Neither of them stop him and he goes to leave, walking slowly to raise less suspicion. However, when he reaches the doors a teacher stops him.

 

“You can’t leave the auditorium while the talent show it going. Please wait until the principal dismisses you.”

 

Keith grits his teeth and turns around to catch Lance staring out into the crowd and there’s so much feeling on his face Keith can’t stop staring.  

_Grit your teeth, pull your hair,_

_Paint the walls black and scream,_

_“Fuck the world, ‘cause it’s my life,  
_

_I’m gonna take it back,”  
_

_And never for a second blame yourself_

 

_Hold on tight,_

_This ride is a wild one,  
_

_Make no mistake,  
_

_The day will come when you can’t cover  
_

_Up what you’ve done,_

Hunk repeats the lyrics a bit and the chorus starts over. Keith knows he’s on the brink of tears and he might be stupid but he’s seriously contemplating telling Lance it’s him. Because despite how sure Lance sounds that his soulmate is a girl, surely he’ll love Keith just as much as if he were one because he seems so genuine about this song. About his soulmate, and like it or not that’s Keith.

When the song ends Lance bows to the sound of the auditorium erupting into screams and applause. He smiles and Keith melts just a little bit.

“Thanks everyone! I’m glad you liked the performance and I hope to see my soulmate soon. Please, come to me.”

Keith doesn’t really have to think over it much after that. Lance is literally pleading to meet his soulmate and no matter how much it will disappoint him, well, Lance did say he’d accept whatever “she” looked like so…

On his way backstage to see Lance, Keith repeats a mantra over and over in his head. ‘He won’t reject you, he won’t abandon you, he won’t reject you, he won’t abandon you.’ He’s just started believing it when he sees Lance. The guy is surrounded by girls, smiling and blushing and rubbing up on him. Keith feels a pang of jealously but shoves it down. Just because the universe decided Lance was his didn’t mean Lance did. The Universe could fuck itself for all he cared, Lance would have to accept him first.

He takes a deep breath before walking up to him. “Hey, Lance?”

Lance spares him the bare minimal of glances before flapping his hand in his direction. “You don’t have to tell me how awesome that was. I know. Now, shoo, when my soulmate gets here I don’t want her getting your attention.”

Keith grits his teeth. He decided to do this. “Actually, Lance, that’s what I-“

“Keith, please. I’ve been waiting years for this. Could you take your ugly mullet somewhere else?”

Keith bites his lip so hard he tastes blood. He turns without a words and leaves. Shiro and Matt both try to grab his attention but he storms past them. Figures. Lance McClain is woman hungry. He’s not gay and the universe loves to fuck him over. What’s the point?

* * *

 

Lance can’t even feel annoyed at Keith for coming to congratulate him. He rocked that performance and he’s ready to meet his soulmate. Even though there are a bunch of very beautiful ladies around him right now, fawning over him, he’s only interested in the girl with his number in her phone and cuts on her wrist.

He waits long after school ends and the auditorium is empty before sighing and leaving. He’d hoped she’d come forward but he understands that she might also be mad. Or maybe she doesn’t want to show herself right at that moment with all those other girls surrounding him. Both are plausible and Lance sulks his way outside to start the walk home.

His arm tingles and he knows without looking she’s cut again. He doesn’t want to look but he’s become accustomed at watching the sickening lines form and feeling like he’s suffering with her. So he lifts his arm to get a look at the lines and his veins run cold. In the same harsh red as the usual lines is the words, _you lied_.

His hearts racing and his palms are sweating and he can feel the bile coming up his throat. She never wrote in her skin before and she could have text that to him. She chose to carve it into her skin and he’s gagging from the thought.

He quickly pulls out his phone and dials her number. The voice makes his knees give out.

“Surprise.” It’s monotone and emotionless, almost like a robotic recording. Lance knows that voice.

“Keith?”


	2. Waving Through A Window

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU ALL ASKED AND I DELIVERED! BUT BEING THE ASSHOLE I AM I COME WITH ONLY PART 2. CHAPTERS ARE HELD RANSOM, COMMENT FOR THEIR FREEDOM! HAPPY ENDINGS ARE IN YOUR HANDS...

“Keith?”

He may look dumb standing in the middle of the sidewalk nearly hyperventilating but in Lance’s defense none of his millions of fantasies ever stared the bane of his existence and arch rival, Keith Kogane. There’s been petite blonds and robust brunettes and even the occasional heavy-set raven, because all girls are beautiful if they’re healthy, and he’s never been sexually picky. But Keith? God, he’s not even gay!

Lance McClain is the epitome of hetero, or at least that’s what his dating history would tell you. But now, with Keith on the phone and harsh words fading on his forearm he’s starting to question his sexuality because surely the universe or God or whoever sets up these matches wouldn’t pair him with a guy unless they were meant to be, right?

In his mild hysteria Lance may forget to talk back to Keith. He’s having an existential crisis here, he can’t be blamed for his lack of talking, despite it being his go to tactic in uncomfortable situations.

There’s banging and muffled noises coming over the line and it snaps Lance out of his shock. He can’t quite hear what’s being said but there’s a string of voices both Keith’s and another male. It sounds like a heated conversation. Maybe someone else is confronting Keith about his stupid mullet. Lance smiles to himself at the thought.

“That your fuck boy?” The voice comes through much clearer, the receiver probably being uncovered and the mocking lilt in the voice smears the smile from Lance’s face. He frowns, brows curving downward in confusion as the conversation continues. “You going out tonight? Gonna see your boyfriend, you faggot?” Lance pulls the phone away from his ear and glances at the screen. He wonders if he hasn’t somehow hung up on Keith and answered a prank phone call because no way is this the same call.

“No, it’s just a peer of mine asking questions about the homework due this week,” Keith lies. He can hear a slight tremor in his voice as he answers. The man laughs loudly and mockingly.

“Whatever you say, kid. Hang up the damn phone, I ain’t paying for no sex talk shit for you to get off to.”

There’s more scratching and muffled movement, most likely the phone being moved and something rubbing against the receiver. Keith is breathing loudly, like he’s forcing air in and out in attempts to keep calm.

“Okay,” he replies. It sounds angry. Lance relates.

“What the hell was that?” Lance asks. Keith is quiet for a while, the only sounds over the phone being his still heavy breathing.

“Doesn’t matter. Bye, Lance.”

Before he can utter a word against hanging up the beep of an ended call sounds in his ear. Lance stays on the sidewalk barely a block away from his school contemplating his life and how Keith is now a part of it, whether he likes it or not.

* * *

 

His phone hasn’t stopped ringing in the two days he’s ignored it. Calls from Shiro, Matt, and Lance alike have received the same treatment of ringing almost endlessly only to inevitably end up listening to Keith’s automated female voicemail claiming the number they called and the name of the person they failed to reach.  He has yet to listen to the messages, all sixteen of them, and has likewise failed to reply to the thirty messages, though those he’s at least read. Shiro is silently supporting him in whatever he has to work through though is very clearly upset that Keith won’t outwardly express his reasons for the absence. Matt has left progressively angry messages from the standard ‘pick up the damn phone’ in all caps to ‘dammit Keith, do not make me track this phone!’ to which he worried the power button under his fingers for all of two seconds before pressing it down and setting the silenced phone aside.

Two hours later he turns the phone back on to see a new message from Lance. Lance has left very few texts and no voicemails. Three of the sixteen texts have been from Lance.

**I’m srry.**

**U tried to tell me and I pushed U off**

**Can we tlk**

Keith laughs at the newest one.

**Could U pls txt me back?**

Why the hell would he do that? So Lance can laugh in his face and actually reject him. Because as horrible as the ‘rejection’ felt after the show, Keith knows logically it’s not much of a rejection if Lance didn’t actually know. Doesn’t mean he’s jumping in front of Lance’s car to give the guy his shot. Avoidance probably isn’t the best way to handle this and come Monday he’ll have no choice but to talk to both Lance and his friends again. He’ll have to explain why he ignored them and, most importantly, deal with his soulmate.

Which is still a very weird concept for Keith. He found out his soulmate was Lance merely hours before Lance himself and he’s still freaking out about it. He knew he was gay years ago, had accidentally came out to Dan when he’d insinuated as such though he was not dating Shiro as Dan claimed. But he’d received the bruises on his arm and Dan’s belt buckle to his back all the same.

Either way, his soulmate is Lance, and that’s the trippy part. That the heterosexual play boy, fuck boy, all around flirt of a human being was his soulmate. Chosen by the whatever in the fuck chooses this shit. Who wants to screw Keith over this badly? A mother who left the family, a father who left his son for the chance of love (which Keith hopes the universe fucked over his father as much as it has him right now), an abusive foster father, and now, a straight soulmate who’s hated him since they met.

He sighs.

**Keith, I get you need time alone and all that but you had better text Shiro back something to prove you’re alive before he sends the police over.**

Keith reads the text from Matt before sighing again and shooting off a quick text to Shiro.

**I am alive and fine. I just…found my soulmate and can’t deal.**

He sets the phone down right as it pings. He really doesn’t want to read the message. Doesn’t want to see the concerned words and offers of safety at Shiro’s place where dairy free ice cream would await because he knows Shiro would go buy it instantly instead of letting Keith eat regular ice cream and claim he hopes it kills him.

They may have been in similar situations before.

**I’m so sorry. Why don’t you stay the night here and we could watch action movies and eat ice cream? Non-dairy for you.**

Keith huffs a laugh. See? Called it.

**Actually, I’ll see you at school. I’m going to spend some time just thinking this over.**

**Don’t overthink things, you tend to do that. The Universe usually doesn’t make mistakes.**

Ha, yes it does. Keith doesn’t buy that line for a minute. He isn’t stupid. He knows there’s been plenty of ‘couples’ whose matches didn’t last because of incompatibility. Specifically recalls a news story months ago about the perfect couple who split due to one being polyamorous. Sure, they could have made it work, but if you have to force the puzzle piece into the slot the pictures messed up.

Keith is done thinking. His brain is fried and his arm is still throbbing from his recent cuts, ones overlapping the words almost like he tried to cross them off his arm. God, what was he thinking. He marked words onto his skin! Words! Cuts could be explained or covered but not fucking words. He’s so messed up.

Keith crawls under the covers of his bed, phone quiet beside him, and closes his eyes as he tries to focus on taking deep enough breaths to keep oxygen going to his brain.

* * *

 

Lance…is a mess. To say the least. He’d called an emergency meeting with both Hunk and Pidge at his house with weird, messed up and lopsided banners and balloons. He’s had free time, okay? When his friends enters his room, they stare at the decorations. Pidge laughs at the thin chicken scratch of Lance’s handwriting claiming, “HELP ME” and the blue and red balloons strewn across the room in varying stages of life. Few still floating with remaining helium.

“So, uh, what’s going on, buddy?” Hunk asks as he and Pidge take a seat on his bed. Lance drags fingers through his messed-up hair and sighs. He feels terrible. Sleep deprived and dehydrated he hasn’t left his room since he’d barricaded himself inside Friday after the Big Announcement as he’s taken to calling it. His mother was kind enough to bring meals to his room but he’s been too keyed up to sleep, much less to eat.

“I know who my soulmate is,” he blurts out in a single breath.

Pidge bounces on his bed, legs tucked underneath her and hands clasped together. She’s grinning like the cat that caught the canary, like she knows something about this is exciting gossip. “So, who’s the unlucky bitch?”

“Language, Pidge,” Hunk chastises. He’s ignored by Lance replying with eyes downcast and shifty.

“More like the unlucky bastard.”

There’s a long stretch of silence as his friends try to decipher what he means but the moment it clicks Pidge nearly screeches, dogs everywhere covering their ears, and Hunk yells before covering his mouth in surprise.

“You’re gay?!”

“I’m not gay. Though I guess if my soulmates a guy then I’m not straight…so I’m bi? But I’ve never been attracted to guys. Help me. You’re my friends, pals, best buds, brother from another mother, and…sister from another mister?” Both Lance and Pidge cringe. “Doesn’t matter. I need help with this. He won’t answer my texts so I can’t talk to him about this.

“Okay, so let’s deal with one thing at a time. Your soulmate is a guy. But if you’re not attracted to guys…” Hunk fades out. And yes, exactly. This is what Lance has been thinking over for hours now. How is he supposed to be with his soulmate if he doesn’t actually like him? Maybe if they went on a date or two Lance would be able to really understand if he could in fact, love a guy.

“I say we put that on the back burner and ask the real questions. Like, who is it?” Pidge, ever the nosy little shit, asks. Lance knew they’d ask but he hadn’t prepared an answer. He didn’t want to tell them who it was because it was, in a way, an invasion of Keith’s privacy. Seeing as how he’d already mentioned his soulmates abusive home life and self-harm tendencies. Wait.

“Shit. Keith’s being abused.” Lance could have slapped himself. He’d been so upset about Keith Kogane being his soulmate he didn’t even think about the fact that his body has been a kaleidoscope of bruises and scars since he was little and all faded within the time frame of a few minutes to a few hours. They didn’t fade nearly as quickly for the initial bearer, if at all.

“Excuse me? I don’t think I heard you right. Did you just say Keith? As in Keith Kogane?” Hunk asks. Lance will take a moment to feel bad about outing him later. Right now, he needs his phone because he’s got important calls to make.

* * *

 

His teeth are grinding against themselves, sending waves and waves of pain up his teeth and into the roots where his gums are protesting. The cops had showed up that morning as Keith was leaving for school, the sirens blaring and catching the attention of nearby peers as well as their parents hiding behind the see-through glass of their windows; wide eyes and open mouths gaping at the scene unfolding.

The police pulled Keith to the side of the first squad car and asked him a plethora of questions about his home life and Dan’s personal behavior. Keith…didn’t want to lie and paint the picture of a perfect father for the monster behind his closet door. At the same time, he knows he’s still got awhile before he’s 18 and able to live on his own. Who wants to go into the foster program this late? He’ll be in halfway homes and it’s equally as unappealing as staying with Dan.

He tells the truth. It wouldn’t matter if he lied anyway. He can overhear another cop informing a newbie about the case and how it was the boy’s soulmate who tipped off the police and used the boy’s medical records as evidence. Stupid Lance. Of course, he’d do anything in his power to take Keith down.

“What’s going on?”

Keith freezes. He’s not ready for all of this to blow up in his face at the same time. He’s just…not ready. Shiro and Matt approach him though the officers make them keep a small five foot distance.

The screams scare him. Dan is dragged from the house kicking and screaming like a bratty toddler. The moment he sees Keith surrounded by Shiro and Matt and another two police officers he’s raging like a bull with cloth flapping in his face. “You bitch! I fed you! I took care of you when that whore left us and this is what I get?! You bastard!” He continues to throw slews of bitter, angry, course words at Keith and his “sugar daddy” Shiro as well as throwing a few cuss words and derogatory phrases at Matt, for good measure. You know, to cover his bases.

He manages to catch a glance to the left and when Keith follows his line of sight he notices Lance, Pidge, and Hunk have also appeared for the show. The fear from seeing Dan so outraged is quickly replaced by his own anger. Lance had done this. He could have survived a little longer dealing with Dan before…what? He was stuck under Dan’s shovel and no amount of digging would make a tunnel to the light of day. With Dan gone…he could do something. Get a job, live his life without the threat of getting beat.

“You’re the one. I see the bruise I left on his face right under your eye. I knew he was a goddamn faggot. How long you been pushing him down on his knees?” Dan asks. The officer holding him pushes him down into the car, roughly hitting his head on the roof before mockingly apologizing.

Keith feels embarrassed about the whole ordeal. He glances around him. His neighbors, people who knew the friendly, if a little standoffish, man who cared for his very clumsy son, glare at him as if he’d been the one to call the police and sentence an ‘innocent’ man to jail. Shiro looks confused and slightly nauseous; eyes darting from Keith to the police to Dan and back. Matt looks solemnly at Keith, already knowing the situation and looking scared to speak of it.

Pidge and Hunk look equal levels of not okay with this and Lance…Well, Lance just looks upset. There is the barest hint of water at the base of his lashes and his face is contorted in a slightly ugly looking grimace. Rather than feeling angry Keith just feels numb.

“You win.” He’s speaking solely to Lance now. They’re staring directly in each other’s eyes and he’s sure he looks as distant and unfeeling as he feels. “You’re better than me. You have the better family, the better life. You’re not some stupid abused kid that couldn’t even call the cops for himself and instead self-harmed so that something was in his control.” He shrugs. “You’re better than me.” The cops gently lead him to their car and he gets in. He refuses to take a last look at anyone as the car drives away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this ending better????


	3. Bleeding Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 28 comments? Eh, not bad. You have successfully freed another chapter. With a little fluff because I'm feeling generous.

Lance feels like utter shit as Keith leaves. He’s always been a person who hid his real feelings behind copious masks, covering up the hurt or inadequacy he felt with smiles and laughs and jokes. Lance is used to people talking about him in secret, as if he can’t hear the whispered gossip about him being derisory, his flirtations laughable, his clothing too preppy or too hipster. It’s always something and while most gossip rolls out his ears quite easily, it’s his grades that hit hardest. His grades are the one thing he focused on changing, being good at.

The moment he did, along came Keith. Truthfully, it was Lance’s own fault that he so often got compared to Keith. They had both been vying for top student of the year with opportunities of joining the Galaxy Garrison after graduating. He’d declared the rivalry in the very public hallways and since his statement, had been publicly compared to Keith in every way imaginable. Even the teachers had started pointing out the differences in their learning curves and techniques.

But, despite all the ridicule and comparisons, Lance didn’t take back the declaration. He would beat Keith at something, anything, whether it be in school or outside of it. Keith didn’t participate in clubs or sports so Lance was left with school, with grades on tests and assignments. For a while it became a sort of obsession.

Knowing what he does now, Lance wonders if perhaps he’d liked Keith all along. If maybe he’d been a little jealous of the attention Keith got and wanted the attention for himself. Not for attentions sake of course, but to pull it away from Keith so Lance could have his all to himself.

No matter how much Lance thinks on the matter, he’s stuck in an endless cycle of thoughts surrounding his dates, his girlfriends, his attractions. While he’s never been particularly picky as far as females go, he’s positive he’s never looked once at a guy and wondered what he’d prefer as a drink, if he’d like crass pickup lines or chocolate coated words. If he’d respond to winks and subtle flirting vs outlandish gestures of romantic affections. It simply never crossed his mind.

He’s broken from his thoughts by Shiro approaching, taking a spot next to Lance on the sidewalk. He’s not entirely sure how much times passed but the crowd is still gathered though denser than before and Shiro looks all sorts of confused.

“What’s going on here, Lance?” he asks. Matt is by Shiro’s side, face a mirror of concern and Lance sighs. He wants to go home and bury himself under the blankets of his bed. Wants to let the darkness of the covers linger in his soul as he shuts his brain off and possibly cries.

What he doesn’t want to do is explain to Keith’s best friend his self-harm habits and abusive home life. Lance would rather Keith tell who he wanted to and be done with it. He’s told more people about Keith’s life than he’s comfortable with. How many times is he going to have to repeat the same words, same sentences, and for how many people? How many people needed to know about Keith before it became enough?

Every time Lance spills Keith’s secrets he feels a little guiltier, like he’s telling the worst of gossip to the worst of people and hoping it doesn’t spread. Feels like he’s replacing the Keith that lived in everyone’s imaginations, the strong, bad-boy, mild asshole, Keith Kogane, with a sadder version; an abused kid too brainwashed and hurt, too broken to survive.

“I’m sorry,” he says. They’re the only words he can think of. Shiro is looking at him expectantly, patiently, like he understands that Lance needs a moment to figure himself out before he can explain the situation that he’s still trying to process. “Keith is my soulmate. The cuts, the bruises…They were all Keith’s. His foster father was hurting him and he…I had to tell someone. I had to help him.” Lance looks over at Shiro and flinches at the fire burning beneath chocolate eyes.

“That bastard did what?” His voice is sharp and cold. Lance has never heard his voice like this, has never seen the anger underneath the kind exterior. Shiro is passed pissed off, passed angry. He’s speeding passed infuriated and straight on passed enraged. Lance has no idea where he’ll stop but he hopes to never be on the receiving end of Shiro’s blatant anger.

“He abused Keith. For years. I had bruises and cuts and…” the tears are on the brink of overflowing when Lance thinks back to the early months when the abuse had just started and lowers his head as he fights back the emotions, the memories.

“Fuck.”

The curses are an admission to how affected Shiro is because he never cusses, admonishes those who do. He’s the type of person to claim his ‘vocabulary is large enough to fit all situations without the need for vulgar language’. Lance thinks there are no better words to describe some things than ‘fuck’ but to each their own.

“It’s okay, Shiro. Lance, you did the right thing, thank you. Keith needs to be away form that asshole and you helped that.” Matt says. Pidge nods her head and Hunk smiles at him. Lance doesn’t feel the least bit reassured by the words. Keith didn’t look reassured, didn’t look happy with the fact Lance had tried to help him. Hell, for all he knows maybe he just sentenced Keith to something much worse than living with that man.

Lance’s eyes open wide. What would happen for Keith now? If he was with a foster father that means he has no family. Will he have to go into an orphanage or a group home? Will he be stuck there until he turns 18 or goes to a different family? Will they be any better than that piece of shit foster? He isn’t sure how any of this works.

“We’ll be there for him now that we know. That’s the best we can do for him.” Matt is so genuinely kind. Lance isn’t sure if Keith will ever forgive him. He doesn’t regret calling the cops, but he regrets the way he’d done it. Surprising Keith like a slap to the boys face. He’d been so unprepared for it; had looked so scared and embarrassed when the man had been dragged from the house kicking and screaming. And then, at the very end, he’d been calm, collected, serious in a way that send shivers down Lances spine.

If he thought he’d had any chance of working things out with his soulmate he’s taking them back now. Keith’s face and words tell him otherwise. He hates Lance’s guts, now.

“Lance, honey?” He isn’t sure when his mother and father pulled up but they’re both standing beside him now, eyes trained on their upset son. They’d been at the station explaining the situation and handing over evidence of Lance’s skin-to-skin soulmate marks and signing papers for the upcoming case. His father is a decent lawyer with a handful of wealthy clients. He looks forward to handling the case as Keith’s lawyer. Lance feels that Keith probably won’t want anything to do with any of his family.

“He’s mad at me,” Lance says. His bottom lip is quivering and as the first set of tears start their decent down his cheeks his mother pulls him into a tight hug. Her arms feel like a safety net around him.

“It’ll be okay. He’s a strong one to have survived all of this and not given up. He’ll get through just fine with the help of all of you. He’s a good boy, I’m sure of it, and you’ve all got his back. We’ll take good care of him, won’t we?” His mother asks the group. The question is met with half formed smiles and gently nodding heads. No one wants to bring her spirits down, but hardly anyone believes her.

He never wanted to hurt Keith. He didn’t want him to be mad at him either. He just wanted to help. How often had he thought about the day he’d meet his soulmate and whisk her away in romance and bravery? This was never a scenario. He’d called the cops for Keith, put the boy in an uncomfortable situation that may not be better than the situation he was leaving.

He hiccups as he tries to pull away from the warm embrace. His mother lets him go, arms loosening to hold onto his arms as she takes a long look at her baby boy.

“Oh, sweetie,” his mother coos. She hugs him tightly again, burying his face in her chest and shielding him from the outside world. Too bad she couldn’t shield him from his own mind which was constantly bombarding him with images of Keith, standing on his own in the middle of a growing crowd, scared. He saw Keith Kogane scared.

* * *

 

He’s angry. Rightly so, in his opinion. He deserves to be angry. If there is one thing he knows for certain it’s that. That he’s allowed to feel however he wants and right now he’s mad. He’s upset and angry and it’s all directed at one person. The person that needed Lance McClain to ‘save’ him. He’s angry at himself.

For all the times he held himself back because he let Dan speak for him. For putting thoughts in his head about the horrors of leaving and having nothing. For allowing Dan to own him. He is a person and he realizes, now that he’s been sitting in the police station in an isolate room for upwards of three hours that he could have called the cops at any time. He had the evidence to launch a full out investigation against Dan but he didn’t. Because he was weak. Because he was afraid. Of what, he isn’t sure. It might quite possibly be death or pain or any combination of the two.

Keith’s never been a fan of feeling weak. Right now, he feels nothing but. At ten am he’s feeling lower than he ever has because he’d needed fucking Lance McClain to make the call. To tell him that he couldn’t handle this. Because as much as he’d been deceiving himself into believing that he had things under control, that he’d been handling things the best anyone could, he hadn’t. He’d been letting Dan hurt him and then hurting himself because of what? Some phycologist would probably say it was because he wanted control. Control over something in the life he had no control over.

He laughs as he scratches over the recent cuts on his arms. The sting that comes from the action clears his mind a little and he sighs. He’s so fucked up. Why would Lance care about him? Keith isn’t stupid, no matter how much Dan claims otherwise. He knows Lance must care about him, even a little bit, because there is no universe where Lance would want to hurt his soulmate. But maybe he does. Maybe Lance is trying to hurt Keith because he’s upset about his soulmate being such a worthless guy. Maybe he just wants Keith to feel as disappointed as he is.

Or maybe, he’s making Lance out to be a bad person when, in reality, Lance cares and wanted to move him into a safer environment. He scrubs at the wetness invading his eyes and buries his head in his arms on the table. He’s tired of thinking.

* * *

 

Shiro and Matt leave soon after the crowd turns into a gossiping mass, throwing rumors and false statements out like Oprah throws out cars. You get a lie, you get a lie, and you get a lie. All different and all in varying stages of ridiculous. Keith did not have an incestuous affair with his foster father. That’s not even how that works.

Hunk and Pidge leave when Lance’s mother pushes them to get to school. Pidge looks concerningly at Lance before leaving. Hunk looks a mix between concerned and relieved. He’s probably happy to be out of such a stressful situation and Lance smiles at him. He completely understands, he’ll fell just as relieved when he leaves.

“Come on, Lance. Let’s go. We have a guest coming over and a bit of paperwork to sign.” His father says as he drapes an arm around his son’s shoulders.

“What do you mean?” He’s not sure how all this works but he’s pretty sure they don’t have to sign any more paperwork than they already have. They’d contacted the cops early in the morning with printed pictures of Lance’s wounds as well as written statements from his respected doctor that the wounds were not caused to his skin. What more could they need to sign.

“Keith can live with us, as a sort of foster situation if he chooses,” his mother says with a soft smile. Lance doesn’t know what to say.

“I don’t understand. How?”

“There are laws for this. Quite specific ones, in fact. Should ones soulmate be underage and in unlawful home conditions, the person may be taken by court order into custody and relocated to stay with his/her soulmate’s family upon approval of living conditions. Keith can choose to stay with us. But he’ll have to go in front of a judge and we have to sign paperwork and have a representative come to the house.” His father says.

Lance is equal parts terrified of this as he is excited. This gives him the chance to apologize, to start over, maybe even…he doesn’t know where he wants to take this…thing that he has no name for but he knows he wants to give them a try. He wants to believe that the universe wouldn’t make a mistake. That he’s meant to be with Keith and vice versa but he’s still unsure about the whole sexuality thing.

But he’ll focus on that later. Right now, they have a prince in distress to save. He still has a chance to be the prince that saves his…prince. Whatever, the reference still stands.

* * *

Keith is sitting in the courtroom, mouth hanging open in surprise and head craning uncomfortably behind him to look at the sweet smiles on the couples faces as they wave gently at him. He looks at Lance who looks equal levels of ready to puke and mildly excited, like a twenty-year-old at Christmas. Old enough to get presents as well as spend money buying them.

“Son, if you need a moment to think this over, or talk it out with them, we can take a five-minute recess,” the kind judge says. He’s looking pityingly at Keith, hands clasped under his chin and head tilted just a little to the left. He looks like he’d love nothing more than to have his face plastered in the paper for helping the ‘poor abused orphan’ find a better home. Perfect headline.

“Yes, please,” Keith replies. The gavel is hit and the crowd disperses. Keith and Lance’s family leave the court room for the open air outside. Keith has yet to meet the McClain’s, let alone talk to them, and they’re already asking for him to live with them?

Outside, the sun is just beginning to set. The air is chilling and Keith wraps his arms around himself in an attempt to keep warm. His long sleeves aren’t thick and he’s losing body heat fast. The McClain’s don’t seem to be bothered by the cooling temperatures at all. Lance is still wearing that stupid jacket he’s worn for years. Mysterious stains and all.

“It’s nice to meet you, Keith. My name’s Heather, and this is my Husband Walter. We have six kids total, Lance being the second to last, and we’d love to have you stay with us. We know you don’t know us at all, but we figured this would be a great opportunity for us to interact and get to know each other. As soulmates, you two deserve the chance.” Lance’s mother says. Her voice is gentle yet strong, as if she’s asking him but forcing him at the same time.

“I’m very sorry for the circumstances that brought you together, but it’s worth pursuing, I assure you.” Lance’s father is staring his wife in the eyes, adoringly holding her hand. They’re soulmates, that Keith is sure of. Keith doesn’t want to spit in the face of happy soulmates but his mouth is a wicked force to reckon with and he has horrible impulse control. Ask Shiro.

“I tried that. But he’s so fixated on some fantasy girl that doesn’t exist.” He spits. “You could put us under the same roof and he’s still going to call me his rival and hate my guts. Hasn’t changed in the four years he’s known me.” Keith doesn’t mean to say all that, he swears, but his mouth keeps moving and words keep spewing form the depths of his throat and the moment they’re out he’s clamping his mouth shut and holding back a flinch.

Here is a kind family offering him housing and he’s spitting in their faces and talking down their perfect little boy. Way to go, Keith. Fuck this up too.

“Lance?” Heather questions.

“I…It’s not like that…I…” Lance stammers over his words, trying and failing to say exactly what’s happened between them. “He’s the one who always has better scores than me. And I wanted to beat him. And after the song that I sang at the show, Keith tried to tell me that he was my soulmate but I was so hung up on it being a girl, I pushed him away. Keith, I’m sorry. Really. And I’m sorry for calling the cops and not telling you. You deserved to know.” Lance says. He’s looking down, teeth clamped tightly on the edge of his lip like he wants to say more but is forcing himself to stop.

Keith is floored. Of all the things he thought Lance had to say to him, an apology was not one of them. He thought Lance would defend his actions, claim them innocent reactions to a rivalry that’s been going since they met. But this…Keith probably looks stupid just staring.

“Lance, I’m very disappointed in that behavior. I know you’ve thought so much about your soulmate and I can see where you’d have preconceived ideas for them. Keith, if you can forgive my son, we’d love for you to stay with us. Even if you two decide not to pursue a relationship.” His mother is smiling so gently, so sweetly that for a second Keith can almost see his mother. If only she were taller with black hair and purple eyes.

“I think the recess is over.”

* * *

 

When everyone has taken their seats, the judge bangs the gavel again and resumes the case. Lance is nearly sweating from nerves. Keith hadn’t actually given them an answer before and he’s worried the boy will turn them down. Maybe he’d rather live in an orphanage. They don’t know because Keith has chosen to become a monk in a vow of silence. Dammit, Lance just wants to know already.

“Keith Kogane, have you come to a decision?” The judge asks. Keith is silent for a moment before turning to glance back at them. He locks eyes with Lance and there’s a small tilt to his lips when he turns back around. Lance feels the smile on his own.

“I’d like to stay with the McClain’s.”

Lance is full on beaming as the gavel is hit one last time and the case is closed. Keith is ordered to appear in court in thirty days for his foster father’s case and tells him he’s allowed to reenter the house to gather any of his belongings and to have a nice day. Keith nods his assent and stands.

Lance shows the best restraint possible when Keith walks over and he doesn’t grab the boy into the tightest hug possible. He’ll still call Keith a rival but he won’t be mean. Keith doesn’t deserve anymore bad treatment. He’s been a jerk for long enough. They’ll be friends.

Friends.

Friends.

He’ll be friends with his soulmate.

Because friendship is the best way to test emotions. No, that sounds bad. Friendship is the best starting point. Because rivals to friends to lovers is a favorite troupe. What is Lance even thinking? He doesn’t like guys.

But he might like Keith. One day. The universe thinks so, anyway.

“Would you like to grab your belongings tonight? It’s a little late but I’m sure we could get it all quick enough.” Mrs. McClain says. Keith thinks the options over. On one hand he’ll have to either where the clothes he’s worn all day or borrow Lance’s if he doesn’t swing back by the house. Likewise his cell is dying and he’s relatively sure Lance is an Android guy. Not that he’s an Apple. Dan only bought him the cheaper type smartphones. Windows.

“Could we stop at the house first?” He asks quietly, politely.

“Of course,” Heather replies.

Lance watches as Keith opens the back door of their SUV and exits. He swings a look back when someone asks if he’d like help gathering his stuff. He’s surprised when Keith makes eye contact with him, considering, and nods. He’s further surprised when he realizes he’s the one that asked.

As he leaves the comfort of both the SUV and his parents behind, Lance walks closer to Keith. He watches as Keith pulls the keys from his pockets that he’d finally gotten back from the police and opens the door.

While the house is relatively normal, even the amount of two beer bottles laid out on the table, the house has an ominous feel to it. The living room is cleaned up, the bottles being the only trash, and the tv is still on and turned to some sports channel.

Lance follows Keith down a long hallway, towards the very back where a plain white door is closed. Keith walks inside and Lance knows it’s the boys room instantly. There are band posters on the walls joined by news snippets of…cryptids? What the hell?! Keith Kogane is such a nerd. God, Pidge would love him.

He’s focused on a newspaper article about what’s been labeled a ‘ghost cryptid’ when Keith scoffs. “Usually if someone offers to help they, you know, help.”

“Dude, you’re such a nerd,” is Lance’s best reply. Because he’s not a brand-new person, thank you. He hasn’t changed. He’s still Lance fucking McClain who teases and makes fun of his friends.

“You came just to make fun of me?” Usually Lance would assume Keith is annoyed by his tone of voice and further tease him but now, having seen Keith with other facial expressions than just emo, he can see the way Keith is barely curling into himself, shying away from Lance and his jokes. Lance frowns. He doesn’t want Keith to look like that.

“No. I didn’t. But this, this is funny. And Pidge will love the fact that you are into this stuff, she is too,” he says. He watches as Keith relaxes somewhat and looks up at him.

“Katie’s into cryptids?” Lance bites so hard on his lip he can taste the blood beading out. Keith is fucking cute sitting on the floor of his bedroom, hands clasping a pair of his folded up socks, looking up at Lance with the dying light of the streetlamp outside his window glinting off his face. For the first time since the reveal Lance is starting to think he could in fact be gay for Keith Kogane.

“Yeah, now focus. What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. Grab the things from my closet and throw them in a trash bag?”

“You mock me for being overwhelmed by the sight that is your room and not immediately helping you pack and then when I try to help you have no idea what you want help with? Kogane,” Lance says as he shakes his head in mock disappointment and grabs a black trash bag from him. Keith simply scoffs at him and continues shoving things into the bag.

Before opening Keith’s closet doors, he turns and asks, “I have to know beforehand, is there anything in here you don’t want me to see?” He’s a nice guy, okay. If there’s something Keith doesn’t want him to see in there than he’ll let the guy have the chance to hide it first.

Keith is silent in thought for a second before shaking his head. Well, it’s good to know Keith doesn’t keep his porn in his closet like Lance does. He probably keeps it under his bed like a heathen.

Lance opens the closet doors and is faced with a lot of red and black. Like, the entirety of Keith’s wardrobe is of those two colors, though to be fair, he doesn’t have much. At most his closet is made of three pairs of pants and a handful of shirts. He tries to think back to all the times he’s seen Keith and he can’t remember him ever dressing much differently than he is now. Black skinny jeans and a typical black t-shirt. And that horrendous crop jacket.

What the hell is with the jacket?

“So, Keith, what’s with the color preferences here? You don’t like other colors? Green? Yellow? Blue?!” Keith tilts his head in confusion and Lance does not find it cute. No way.

“I like red,” he says simply. Lance squints his eyes at Keith’s elementary level answer and turns his attention back to the closet where he begins yanking the clothes off their hangers and dropping them into the bag.

Silence envelopes the room and gently trails nails down Lance’s spine. He does what he’s best at. Talking. “My favorite color’s blue.”

“Okay,” Keith replies awkwardly. Lance smiles into the closet. Things aren’t okay. But they can be.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this is not enough for you, feed me comments and Kudos. This will only end when you've decided the ending fits (I love adding to this story, don't feel bad) or the amount of comments don't satisfy me.


	4. The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I'm sorry I left you all. Thanks for the comments and I apologize for not commenting back about the new chapter. Also sorry for leaving this for so long, I know it's been WEEKS but I've been up to a lot. Won't go into it though cause who cares, new chapter! It's short as hell and has very little plot points but I wanted to get something out. Don't worry, the next chapter is not a ransom, just on hold. It will be updated at least with one more chapter not depending on comments left. Anyway, enjoy the fluff-angst? Is there fluff? I don't think there's fluff. Enjoy this!

Lance isn’t surprised by the tiny amount of items Keith decides to take. He loads half a bag of Keith’s things, mostly clothes, and throws both medium sized bags over his shoulder as he follows Keith from the house. He’d grabbed his phone charger, a freaking Windows, and a second pair of shoes; black combat boots, the emo. Keith tries to grab his toiletries from the shared bathroom but when Lance spies the age of the toothbrush and the brand of the toothpaste as well as the rust on the razor and the mass of hair stuck in the hairbrush, he veto’s everything and drags Keith away by his jacket tail.

“We have all that stuff in excess, you can have what you need. Besides, if you think my mom isn’t taking you shopping for a shit ton of things tomorrow, then you’re wrong.” Lance knows very well his parents won’t leave Keith alone now. They’ve caught him in their talons and come tomorrow the boy will be up to his 70’s haircut in items the guy will never use.

“What do you mean?” Keith looks severely confused. And kind of cute with his head tilted to the left just slightly.

“My parents are excessive at spoiling anyone they claim as family. Pidge’s got a permanent pull out couch downstairs in the tv room. Along with a section of the room dedicated to her many tech toys. Hunk has a few drawers and shelves in the kitchen for ingredients when he comes over to cook his anxiety away. His parents try to ignore his anxiety and that just makes things worse.”

“That’s…really amazing. And nice of them.” Keith is starring at him, frozen with the door wide open and keys dangling from his fingertips. The light from the partial moon outside illuminates him; shrouding him in a halo of light that has Lance’s mouth drying out. He probably shouldn’t be questioning his sexuality at this point because this is a pretty good sign.

He has a nice body, feminine in some ways and masculine in others. His jacket hides whatever muscles he has on his arms but his tight fitting V-neck shirt hugs what Lance only guesses is a small pack of abs. His abdomen is a little lengthy, slim waist narrowing down to equally slim hips and down to strong thighs.

He’s not gay for noticing that Keith has a nice body. In fact, it’s more like he’s admiring a body he’d like to have. He’s been called a string bean and a bean pole many times before, mostly by his thicker sisters.

“Sure. I mean…sure they are. Nice.” Wow, way to sound dumb, Lance. Of all the things he could have said, he chose to stutter out that. He’s not necessarily trying to impress Keith or anything but if he wants to have any chance of maybe someday figuring things out and maybe having a relationship with his chosen soulmate than he needs to start sounding…not dumb. God, he swears he isn’t dumb. He’s got a pretty good GPA and a list of scholarships to apply for when the time comes and he’s got college essays already lined out. He’s smart, dammit, and he’s determined to show Keith that.

Keith, the guy currently waving a hand two solid inches from his face and clearly saying something. “What?”

“I said, you coming? Your parents are waiting,” he says. Lance shakes his head and reaches out to grab the keys from Keith’s hands when he pulls his hand back so quickly Lance doesn’t even hear the jingle  as they hit against each other.

“Dude, you won’t need those anymore. Give ‘em a toss; doesn’t matter where they land.”

“I knew that. I just…yeah, sure.” Keith gives the keys a light toss and Lance ushers him out the door before they land. A small smile pulls at his lips as he pushes Keith towards the SUV and loads the bags. His parents question the lack of items Keith comes back with but Lance simply explains how it gives them more freedom in the things they need to buy him which excites his mother to no end. She claps her hands together and starts listing the things he’ll need and Lance steals a glance over at Keith who’s looking five minutes from overwhelmed and ready to puke. If his mother gets this reaction he’s a little weary to see the reaction his siblings will cause.

While his mother gets easily excited and sometimes a little loud, his siblings are ten times more rambunctious. Maria and Neo being the loudest. Maria, the brassiest 24-year-old and partier extraordinaire. She’s led Lance into a few of his first parties and taken home a mildly drunk underage kid as well as hid that fact from their parents. Neo, the loudest and most energized ten-year-old he’s ever met. He once went two days straight with nearly four hours sleep. His mother was not amazed when she returned from her business trip.

His other sisters, Carla and Desmona, while not particularly quiet, aren’t the party animals Lance and Maria turned out to be, but they’re morning people and in Lance’s book that’s equally as bad because they’re loud in the wee hours of the morning while he’s knee deep in eye masks and cucumber facial scrub. They don’t understand the rigorous routines Lance goes through. The roller derby demons they are.

His older brother, Marcus, is the quietest of the lot. Lance isn’t surprised. He clearly takes after their father. The quiet, silent type. Too young to act so old. Poor guy has no game and no life.

* * *

 

It’s extremely late by the time they roll into a large driveway, three different vehicles already parked there; the SUV taking a spot between a silver Honda and a black Hyundai. Both look relatively new in years and something Keith could never hope to afford.

He’s living with rich people.

Fucking rich people. Lance is rich. He’s rich and he just came from Keith’s house. It’s like comparing a backyard shed to a summer home. That thing rich people have because they’re cold blooded.

Shame boils in his stomach and embarrassment burns his throat. Lance saw the shack he lived in, the room he slept in. Lance is rich and he knows Keith, his soulmate, is a poor abused orphan. This is the shit that only happens in fairytales.

“Home sweet home,” Mrs. McClain says. She twists to look at Keith from the front seat and in the dim light of the SUV Keith can see the warm smile on her face. “I know this is probably very overwhelming but on the bright side everyone should be asleep so at least until breakfast tomorrow it’ll be relatively quiet.”

“Thank you.” The words are muttered so quietly Keith wonders if anyone heard him. He’s avoiding eye contact and nearly glaring holes in the upholstery. The SUV alone probably costs more than the amount of money to cover Keith’s living costs for his entire stay with Dan. He licks his lips and unconsciously curls further into himself.

“It’s no problem dear. We’re happy to have you. Now, we do have a shortage of rooms so for now is it okay with you to share a room with Lance? Tomorrow we’ll go shopping and get you a bed and a desk and all that good stuff but for tonight we’ll boot Lance into Neo’s room and you can take his bed. Does that sound okay?” Her voice is too soft, too warm, too caring. It causes a blockage in his throat and he nearly chokes on it. He nods his head instead of answering her. “Great, then lets grab your things and Lance can give you a quick tour and get you set up. You’re probably exhausted after today so get to bed soon.”

Keith nods his head again and her and her husband start to get out. Lance and Keith following.

* * *

 

Lance can feel the awkward and chilling tingle crawl up his spine at the silence between them. Keith has made absolutely no attempts to keep even a basic conversation going. Lance was reduced to mentioning the weather, and in his desperation rambled about the forecasted rain for what must have been a solid five minutes.

He glances over his shoulder at the hunched over figure of his arch nemesis and sighs irritatingly. He just needs a little input here. Lance has never been good with silence, he lives in a medium sized house with eight people and every holiday the house is crammed with so many of his extended relatives that the floors are alive with the bodies of his little cousins and nieces and nephews. It’s a mad house.

His point; he’s not used to quiet. If the classroom is quiet at school he unconsciously starts tapping his pen. Nights at his house are never quiet due to his brothers and fathers snoring. Rides to school are filled with stereo sound and while poor Blue is at the mechanics his walks to school are filled with music from his earbuds. Nothing’s ever quiet.

“And that concludes the tour. Please exit the hallway via the door to the right and keep all appendages to yourself as you cross over into the main room. Please do not touch the artwork that is...my room.” He gestures grandly to his room and watches as Keith rolls his eyes and walks past him. “Sure, roll your eyes pretty boy, but you’re staying in my den now. And I’ve put in many years making it look this great.”

“Pretty boy?” Keith cocks his eyebrow up; a signature look of his that Lance has seen billions of times before.

“Well, I mean…”

“Don’t Lance. Don’t treat me, _look at me_ , different just because you know I’m your soulmate. It doesn’t change your feelings for me like that.” He looks angry and upset. Lance understands. He’s been a horrible person to Keith since they met. Constantly poking fun at him and his hair and arguing with him for no reason other than wanting to get a rise out of him and Keith almost eagerly getting sucked in. It would be an unhealthy relationship if Lance pushed for anything now. They know nothing about each other, not including Keith’s home life, which he knows more about now that he really ever wanted to.

“I’m not. It was just a nickname, like Mullet. Promise, I’m not…I know we started off on the wrong foot and I’m not just being nice to you because your my soulmate. I just don’t want to push you away if there’s a possibility we could try for it. The universe chose us so I want to give it a try but not now and not if you don’t want.” It’s the most serious he’s ever been and it sort of feels like ripping out his throat to admit.

“The universe? Lance it fucks over just as many ‘happy couples’ as it makes. You really think we are meant to be? Every word we’ve ever said to each other prior to the last four days has been hateful words and yelling matches. There’s nothing here,” he gestures to the large space between them, “to build on or expand or uncover or whatever other sappy words you want to use. I’m staying here because I have nowhere else, not because I think for a second that something will happen here.”

“I get it. I just want to give it a chance. But I’ll behave, no flirtations. Got it.” He salutes and promptly exits out the room. He feels exhausted all of a sudden and he’s not sure why. Two steps down the hallway and he spins on his heel. “One question though, why did you try to confess then? If you thought there was no chance for an ‘us’ then why did you approach me at the talent show?”

The silence speaks a lot more that the words that eventually tumble from his mouth. “Because the song…I thought…you know what? I have no idea what I thought, either way it was a fucking mistake.” He turns away from Lance, face hidden behind a long fringe of black bangs. Lance isn’t satisfied with that answer but it’s clearly all he’s going to get. After a tense few seconds of waiting Lance leaves the room, closing the door as quietly as possible and sneaking his way into Neo’s room. The kids asleep, draped across the bed from one corner to the other, diagonal across the entirety of the bed and effectively leaving Lance with no room to squeeze in.

If Lance were a more caring older brother, like Marcus, he’d settle for sleeping on the couch for the night and leaving Neo to his sleep. He is not though. Instead Lance turns around, back facing the bed and after taking a deep breath does a trust fall back onto the bed, onto Neo. There’s a squeak and a few grumbled words but he settles back into sleep. Lance is tired enough that he falls asleep quickly enough, despite the lack of comfort in his chosen sleeping position.

* * *

 

He wakes to the sound of pounding on the door and screaming. It’s enough to send him into a heart attack. Did he oversleep? Is Dan angry? Of course, he’s angry, when is he not? God, he overslept and Dan’s expecting food and…shit if he misses another day of school he’s going to be out for a week with the beating he’ll get.

Keith throws himself off the bed…or tries to. Instead he slams into a wall that’s never been there before and curses as he lies back down, hands covering his face. Light’s pouring through the open blinds beside the bed and he can feel the warmth of the sun over his hands and on his face through the cracks between his fingers. He groans and rolls onto his side, facing the wall he’d just faceplanted, and frowns. Since when has his bed been against this wall?

Unsurprisingly, shortly after this thought Keith’s memory catches up with him and he feels blood rush to his cheeks. He’s living with his soulmate’s family. Lance’s family. He’s going to share a room with Lance, the guy who’s always making fun of him and calling him names and flirting with anything that’s remotely female shaped.

“Knock, knock, sunshine. Come on, Mullet, time for breakfast. In honor of our new house guest, mama has decided to drag us all out to Denny’s. Hope that suits your fancy.” Lance’s voice, while usually annoying but deep and attractive sounding, if Keith’s being honest, is grating and irritating two seconds after he’s woken up, startled and already upset.

“Ugh, go away,” he says. He hears Lance huff from the doorway and the door close and Lance steps inside.

“Dude, my room still, at least for the next 20 or so hours, and that’s my bed, indefinitely. So, up and at ‘em.”

Keith wants to argue with that but it’s sound science, or math, whatever. It’s sound whatever it is. He’s not a morning person, okay? Never has been. Keith probably shouldn’t have even been cooking in the early mornings for Dan, he’s burned himself often okay? Most by accident.

He’s still breathing hard from the rough awakening and his nose still throbs with his heartbeat. “So, I have to meet your whole family, huh?”

“Yep, if you’re living here you have to know who you’re living with, right? Now, get up and go take a shower. I don’t know if there’s any hot water left.”

The water is in fact only mildly warm. Keith usually enjoys scalding water, something to teeter on the edge of painful and blissful but he’ll settle with warm if it prolongs the time he doesn’t have to spend with people he doesn’t know. While Lance’s parents had been amazingly nice, he worries more about his siblings, people closer to his age or younger.

He’s never been good around kids, finds their mouths too open, unknowingly cruel words spilling freely and questions firing like an automatic gun. In short, kids stress him out. He knows Lance has a little brother but he doesn’t know the kids age.

The boom from the door scares him and he jerks from his thoughts, the stream of water hitting his face and for a fraction of a second he worries he’s drowning. Sputtering and spitting water out of his mouth he replies, “yes?”

“Come on man, I’m not even this bad. Everyone’s getting antsy waiting on you,” Lance yells through the door. Keith imagines what it would be like to punch him.

He drags himself from the shower, using a towel from under the sink to dry off and dresses in clothes that’s wrinkled form the overnight stay in a trash bag. The black skinny jeans don’t look too bad but the black V-neck shirt is beyond saving. Shrugging, he swipes a hand through his hair to comb it out of his face and leaves.

Lance is just beyond the door, lounging on his bed. His head pops up when Keith enters and he watches as Lance swallows and turns away quickly. The boy can’t possibly be that horny that a freshly showered Keith turns him on.

* * *

 

“So, your Keith huh? It’s like looking at a picture of the exact opposite of everything we imagined.”

Lance watches as Keith looks down at the table suddenly, looking hurt and ashamed. Shit, damage control! Luckily, his mama comes to Keith’s rescue.

“Oh, hush. It was Lance’s fault for day dreaming. You never set yourself up like that.”

“yeah, for this fall,” Neo mumbles but clearly the table can hear it. Keith is sitting on the end of the table and they’ve barely been sitting down long enough for their drink orders to come. Keith’s looking down at the table, eyes shielded from the rest of the world by his long bangs.

He’s not sure why Neo and Marcus are being dicks but he’d appreciate it if they didn’t insult his soulmate. Keith should never look like a kicked puppy. Neo’s been making smartass comments, feeding off the material Marcus gave him, since they all piled into the SUV that morning. While his parents constantly tried to reign them in, cool them down, and silence them when all else failed, Keith still heard the muttered comments and slowly began to say less and less, even when asked a direct question.

The standoffish-ness irked his sister Maria who had clearly been singing Keith’s praises in attempts to pull him from his shell. Maria, the fucking angel, had complimented Keith’s entire being but Marcus’s quick quips made sure Keith never smiled about any of it. Not even that (not) cute blushing smile Keith did when Shiro complimented him. He’s seen the two around campus. He’s not blind.

As breakfast progresses, Lance feels the lump in his throat slowly sink lower and lower into the pits of his stomach as Keith becomes more and more upset. His mama see’s Keith curl into himself, food long since cold and forgotten and calls an end to the breakfast. She shoos Marcus to his early college class, telling him to take his sisters too for their classes. Maria gives Lance a small smile and squeezes his arm before following Marcus out. Lance catches the quick movement of her slapping Marcus’s head. He smiles at her when she turns to wink at him.

“Now, Hun, you take Neo out for the day so me and the boys can go~ shopping!” His mama says. Lance knew she’d be this excited but it’s still scary. They will be throwing down serious money today. Maybe he can talk her into buying him that new video game while they’re out. Say Keith would love it or something.

* * *

 

A game is shoved in his hands and when he looks up at the tan face he’s met with two large blue eyes and a lip so stuck out he could pinch it between two fingers. “Dude, do me a solid and ask mama for this.”

“Why?” he asks. Lance smiles, a small tug of the left side of his lips.

“Because she’s buying you literally anything today and I want this game and she’ll say no if I ask but you? You, she’ll say yes to.”

“Oh. But I don’t want you guys to spend so much money on me, it’s temporary anyway. I’ll only be staying for a few months.”

Lances scoffs.

“Yeah, sure you will. Doesn’t matter, she’s buying you all kinds of shit and there is no stopping her. Now, she’s coming, ask for this,” he pushes the game into Keith’s hands a little rougher and whips his body around to face his mother. Keith gaps at him. There’s no way he’s asking for things. The woman is already pushing a cart full of things and they entered Best Buy twenty minutes ago.

“Oh, what do you have there?” Lance’s mother grabs the game from him and flips it over a few times. She nods. “Glad you finally decided on something. I’ve been waiting for you to look at something you like so I could get a sense for the things you like.” She tosses the game half hazard into the cart and wheels past them. Keith catches Lance giving him what he could only describe as a shit eating grin and also waltzes passed him.

* * *

 

Lance has come to realize Keith is not accustomed to someone spending money on him. They left Best Buy with a laptop, cell phone, an Iphone 8 because his mother is a traitor like that, a PS4 and the game, Titanfall which Lance claims the moment they’re out the doors. He misses the wink his mother sends Keith.

Anyway, Keith looks out of his element. He saw the place Keith lived and he won’t say it was that bad. A normal looking two story house, somewhat dirty from lack of care but clean enough for a bachelor with a teenage kid. Lance supposes that while Dan had some money, from a job or something he doesn’t know or care, but he supposes Keith was never on the receiving end of that money. Because if he had been, he’d be a little used to someone buying him something.

Hell, the guy got the cheapest food possible from Denny’s that morning!

“Alright, next is Bed, Bath and Beyond,” his mama says. Keith flinches.

“Come on Mullet, the days barely started,” he says, looping arms with Keith who sighs but obediently follows.

* * *

 

They leave with a shit ton more stuff. Lance’s mother and Lance had argued in the bedding isle for a very long time about the size of bed Keith would be getting. Lance adamantly voted for a twin while his mother argued that he’d need a comfortable space and voted for a full. Keith finally had to step in when an associate noticed the growing noise and started to come over.

He had placed a hand on her shoulder and quietly muttered that a full size was perfectly fine, to which Lance fist pumped the air and shouted while his mother sulked and patted his hair.

They’d left with no less than half the store, or so Keith would say, and then a few extra phone chargers “just in case.”

* * *

 

Lance loves Ikea. It’s a maze of weirdly named furniture and odds and ends of things he’ll never own because really, who wants this stuff? They pick out a decent, twin size wooden bed frame, a mattress, a bed side table to match, a black lamp and an alarm clock.

Keith, having needed a break from the mother and son combo walks off a bit while they calmly argue over Keith’s need for a wall mirror, something silver and round and completely unnecessary in Keith’s opinion, moves a little ways away to stare at a hanging chair, suspended from the rafters above him by thick rope.  

How is that supposed to be comfortable? It’s large but it’s basically a basket with a large pillow to cover it and a few throw pillows for décor. He’s staring so intently he doesn’t notice Lance running up beside him, passed him, and throwing himself into the chair full force, swinging it away and back again in a large arch. The quick movement startles him but then Lance’s mother is at his side, squinting at the little tag next to the object and quickly scribbling something down on the note pad she grabbed earlier.

This is by far the worst of the shopping so far. They had arrived at what Lance called an outdoor mall. It’s essentially thousands of small shops in one location with no roof, allowing the very hot sun to bore down on them. There’s a fairly large crowd out and he feels a little nauseous from the overload to his senses.

“Okay, now for clothes! When you see something you like, Honey, just let me know.” She’s still as enthusiastic as when they started what feels like literal days ago. He’s bordering on exhausted and overwhelmed and ready to call it quits but of course there are still things he needs, apparently.

They’re walking slowly, leisurely, when Keith stops, dead in his tracks, and stares. There’s no way he’s seeing this. His favorite band, the one he listened to nearly every day until Dan canceled his data plan, MCR is on a shirt. He’s never really worn band merch, Dan being against him having things he likes, so he’s never seen the merch for MCR but this shirt…

He feels bad about all the money the McClain’s have spent on him but just once, he’s going to ask for something because he needs this shirt.

“Oh. My. God. Of course you’d stop at this store you fucking emo,” Lance says beside him.

“Language, Mijo.”

“Sorry, Mama. But come on, of course. Tell me you didn’t see this coming.” Lance shakes his head and pushes Keith a little closer to the store. “Come on you emo, we’ll get you clothes from Hot Topic.”

* * *

 

Lance is volunteered to carry all the bags by his mother, seconded by Keith, and he pouts about it all the way to the food court. It’s a little after one, or so his new phone states, and he can feel the tell-tell signs of pangs in his stomach.

They decide to eat Osaka, Japanese food, and he watches as his teriyaki chicken is prepared. He’s surprised by the outrageous amount of food that gets piled into the Styrofoam to-go container. It’s more than he usually eats in a single day. For one serving.

“You okay?” It’s the gentlest Lance has been towards him all day. Though, now that he’s thinking about it, Lance hasn’t been…Lance-ish towards him since the incident. The Reveal, as he’s labeled it.

“Yeah, just, thinking,” he replies as they sit down. Lance’s mother went down a few shops to pick up something Greek so they’re alone for the first time all day.

“About?”

“What?”

“What are you thinking about?” Lance asks. Keith doesn’t want to talk about it. About how he wasn’t given a lot to eat unless he paid for it himself and those times were few and far between since he wasn’t allowed to get a job. Doesn’t want to explain those sorts of circumstances to Lance, the rich boy himself. The dudes probably never went hungry a day in his life whereas Keith’s had more days hungry than not.

“About that one store, Hot Topic?” He knows the subject will pull an over the top, exaggerated sigh from Lance and a perfect topic change.

“You have far too many band tee’s and bracelets now. I still say you should have gotten those cat ear headbands. Would’ve looked down right adorable.”

‘Lance,” he says. Keith doesn’t want to hear this again. Lance does not like Keith. It’s a horrible pain to repeat the words over and over again. Lance does not like Keith. He’s infatuated, not with Keith, but with his soulmate, which just so happens to be Keith. But he doesn’t like Keith.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” he raises his hands up in surrender and bows out of the argument. They’re eating in a not quit awkward silence when his mother comes back.


	5. Arsonist's Lullabye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith angst. All the summary you need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is the chapter I promised for the extended wait. Tell all your friends this is updated as the next chapter is hostage. There's so much family fluff and sad Keith and smiling Keith I'm sure you'll want it, especially after this...

Hunk and Pidge stop by shortly after they return from shopping. Keith stays upstairs in the room while they take the sitting room. He listens quietly to them playfully argue and play some video game that sounds like fast cars with lots of honking. Hunk softly knocks on the door minutes later, asks if he’d like to join them. Keith can’t find the will to try connecting with them or the voice to decline. The silence stretches on for only so long before Hunk slinks back to the group with a sorrowful, “okay, maybe another time.”

They leave half an hour later. It’s a Monday night and they’ve got homework to do, they mainly stopped by to hand off Lance’s homework and check up on him.

Twenty minutes after Keith decides to call Shiro. He’ll be worried and upset that Keith hasn’t answered him. Though, to be fair, he has a new phone with a new number. He can only imagine the texts and voicemails he’s gotten from Matt and Shiro both. He chews on his bottom lip, contemplating.  

He’ll call Matt. The thought of contacting Shiro causes a tightening in his chest and phantom butterflies in his abdomen; their spindly legs gripping at his insides and creating weird sensations. His chest aches and he takes a few large breaths to steady himself and dials Matt’s number.

“Hello, this is Matt speaking,” he says, voice robotic, polite in a generic greeting sort of way that closes Keith’s throat. He doesn’t want to speak, to let Matt know it’s him calling. “Hello?” Inquisitive. Impatient.

“Matt…” He was planning on saying something…more. Something…he just didn’t know what. Doesn’t know what.

“Keith? Dude, holy shit. Shiro was going nuts. We heard you were staying with Lance. And what the hell? You couldn’t contact us?!”

The panic starts to ebb away, though only slightly. “Yeah, sorry.” He flounders for which question to answer first; what’s a better starting point, a quicker explanation? “Mrs. McClain bought me a new phone and that changed my number. Before that I left my phone at their place while we were out and before that I was in court-”

“Relax man, it’s okay. Shiro’s here with me, let me get him and I’ll put you on speaker,” he says. Keith wants to tell him no. To shout that he can’t handle it yet, isn’t prepared mentally to talk with the only person who’s cared about him. But his throat is still locked, a lump nearly bubbling, caught and confined.

“Keith? Keith?! Are you alright?” Shiro sounds frantic. Keith feels bad about causing it.

“Yeah, Shiro, I’m fine. I’m staying with the McClain’s for a while. They’re uh, nice.”

“Good, good. I’m glad you’re okay. You are okay, right? You didn’t come to school today, so I got worried. Pidge told Matt that you were staying with Lance instead of going back into Foster care?”

“Yeah. I, uh, I’m okay.” It’s all he can say. He’s physically doing fine.

Mentally, he’s doing a little less than okay. He’s imagining how good it would feel to be bleeding out right now. But Shiro doesn’t need to hear about that.

“So, do we talk about the elephant in the room or ignore it for a while longer?” Matt asks.

“I vote we ignore it forever. It’s not important anyway,” he says. This is what he was putting off.

Deep breath in. Slow breath out.

“Keith. You’re self-harming. And-“

“Shiro, I know you want to know all about why I stayed silent, didn’t tell you, tell anyone. But I can’t have this conversation right now. I just…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he can feel the pressure building both in his lungs and behind his eyes. He’ll start crying soon and Shiro and Matt will hear him. Pathetic.

“Hey now, buddy, it’s okay. We can talk anytime. I’ll always be here, me and Matt. And…Matt, could you give me a second?” There’s silence over the line as, presumably, Matt exits. “Keith, you’re like a little brother to me. And…I want you around. I want to see you grow up, graduate, get a job. All those little things. If it ever gets bad again, please, _please,_ call me. I don’t know if I can do anything to help but…call me.”

His tears burn tracks down his cheeks. He bites his lip, hard, to stifle the sobs. He’s almost sure Shiro can hear the hiccups from where he’s breathing erratically but he’s thankful he doesn’t mention it. “I’ll see you at school, okay?”

“’Kay, thanks, Shiro.”

They hang up and Keith cries silently for a while longer. He scrubs at his face when Lance knocks and if he notices Keith’s red eyes and uneven breathing he doesn’t comment on it.

It’s now that Lance choses to bring it up. They’ve been back from the shopping trip for maybe two hours when the questions start. Keith’s told him countless times that he won’t talk about it, that he doesn’t need to, but Lance is nothing if not stubborn and refuses to believe that Keith is over it. Of course, he’s not. So, he persists that Keith tells him about the cuts, the self-harm, the abuse.

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” he replies. Lance sighs, loudly and annoyed, before folding his arms across his chest, a mirror to Keith’s closed off body language, and frowns.

“Why not? I already know about it why not just explain it. I don’t get it and I want to. The last thing you did was carve words into your arm as a message to me, why would you do that?” Lance’s eyes are focused on him.

“Because,” he says as if that’s a good enough answer. Truthfully, he doesn’t know. He’ll just chalk it up to a dark time and ignore the crossed over words permanently carved into his fucking flesh.

He hasn’t cut since he moved in with the McClain’s a day ago, but the itch is there, just under his skin and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t getting stronger every hour. Marcus hasn’t been the one slowly pushing him toward it. The off handed comments about Keith reminding him of Dan, and the more he thinks about Dan the more he remembers the phrases he’d use, the derogatory slang he’d call him and so on. But the kindness is equally as bad. It crawls under his skin and makes him feel unworthy. Makes Dan’s words feel truer.

Each second pushes him further and further and he’s been tempted to sneak away into the private bathroom he and Lance share to cut into his skin and relieve some of the pressure he can feel flowing through his veins. But he worries about Lance seeing it because there is a large difference between knowing it by seeing it second hand on your own skin and seeing it in real life on someone else’s. One way he’s seeing simple white lines with a tint of red while the other he’s seeing blood and the jagged edge of torn skin. A whole different ball game there.

“Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m not doing it right now so-“

“You’re the one who told me you can’t stop. I know you haven’t done it yet, but you will, and we both know it. You’ll have to see a therapist; will it be any easier talking to a stranger?” Lance sounds upset, but also simply curious.

He still won’t tell him. How does one explain it anyway? That you feel both too small and too large for the body you’re in? That the cuts feel like a release, like the blood flowing out of you is your sins, the bad stuff about you, and the more you lose the better you feel? That-that sounds fucked up in every way, shape, and form. God, he’s insane.

“Yes, it will. Because it won’t be you,” he knows the words are harsh; that he’s being a dick to Lance, so he’ll storm out and the conversation will end but he needs it to end.

“Wow, okay. Sorry I care about you,” Lance says as he lifts his hands up, palms facing outward as he backs out the room. He feels a little bad about the words, but he needs the quiet. The McClain’s are loud and rough around the edges, and Marcus is a class-A prick, but he likes them. At least, he likes the parents…and Lance most of the time. Marcus…

_Well, he’s nothing like who you’ve dated before._

_Maybe if you cut your hair._

_So, foster care huh? How many families did you go to?_

_Did you come with a receipt? For, y’know returns._

He scratches at his wrists and curls tighter into himself. Dan is not right. Was never right. Keith is not a pathetic bitch of a person. He can take care of himself and he’s smart, he could have gotten into the Garrison, no problem…The Garrison. The deadlines over, that bridge to freedom is dead and gone.

He feels low. Lower than he’s felt in the last few days and the blood pumping through his veins feels heavy, like liquid lead and he imagines how light he’d feel if some of it was gone.

* * *

 

Keith’s not an open person. Lance doesn’t know him well, hasn’t hung around him much and not counting the occasional argument and petty bets, hasn’t talked to him. What he knows about Keith comes from a mix of those as well as second hand information that’s trickled down the grape vine from Shiro to Matt to Pidge and then to him. And sometimes the information gets a little messed up like a game of telephone but it’s mostly right.

So, in short, there’s very little Lance knows about Keith. The one thing he’s sure of is that Keith is not an open person. He doesn’t talk to anyone outside of his circle if he can help it and he’s quiet in groups or crowds. After the outing today, Lance knows Keith is uncomfortable with anyone spending money on him, no matter the amount, and he gets stressed out in crowds. Small or large get the same reaction of avoidance and awkwardness as well as a lack of eye contact and silence.

He knows physical touch is often met with confusion, like he doesn’t understand why Lance places a hand on his shoulder. He knows Keith flinches easily. Whether it’s from a raised hand or quick movements or harsh words he flinches slightly; a quick closing of the eyes, raised shoulders, scrunched together eyebrows.

He knows Keith feels bad, _ashamed_ , about the abuse. As if it’s somehow his fault that he ended up with that bastard, that he ended up getting hit nearly every day for years. The thought hurts but at the same time he’s so angry. That Keith Kogane feels ashamed for anything in his life.

Lance feels ashamed for acting like such a moron. For dreaming about his soulmate and then hurting him so badly. They could be best friends, tentative lovers even, had he not pushed Keith away after the talent show. Fuck. He doesn’t like guys. He’s not against being gay but he’s never been attracted to one. He’s noticing some attraction to Keith now, but it’s-

“Lance, let’s go, dinners ready,” Marcus calls. Neo pauses the game quickly and dashes from the room, starting a race he knows he can only win with cheating. Lance sighs, he hadn’t been paying nearly enough attention to win any of the races in Mario Kart so his player will pull in at last place when the game is un-paused.

He worries about dinner. Mama hadn’t been able to keep the peace since they got back from shopping and while Lance had tried for the first hour, after his talk with Keith about cutting went downhill he’d left Keith to his own devices. He knows it was a dick move. Because when all his stuff arrived from Ikea Marcus and his father were the ones to haul it in and assemble it and Lance had left Keith alone with them. Alone with Marcus specifically.

All because he was a little hurt by Keith’s words. If Keith ever calls him a jackass, he’ll be right.

“Honey? Come, sit down.”

He smiles at his mama and takes a seat next to Keith. He avoids looking at him, can’t bring himself to meet Keith’s face after leaving him with Marcus. For not making Marcus be nice. God, he was the one comforting Lance for hours at a time, multiple times, when the cuts first started appearing and now all the guy can do is passive aggressively tear Keith down with the same information. And Lance is letting him.

“So, how did your classes go?” His mama asks. Maria starts talking and Desmona chimes in every now and then but Lance isn’t paying attention to anything they’re saying. He sneaks a sideways glance at Keith and frowns when he sees the way he’s pushing the food around his plate, eyes focused on the meal, head down as if he’s trying to appear as small as he possibly can.

He looks like he has no idea how to navigate a situation like this other than to disappear into the background; quiet and unseen.

“Keith, I made spaghetti because Shiro said it was a favorite dish of yours so eat as much as you like. Oh, He called earlier. Just for a check in.” His mama smiles brightly at him and Lance watches as Keith freezes, unsure of how to act now that he’s in the spot light.

“Thank you,” he says. It’s stilted and quiet. Lance isn’t used to this kind of Keith and it’s worrisome.

“It’s no problem, dear.”

“How was shopping today? I heard you got a lot of good deals?” His father chimes in. Lance can hop into this conversation, maybe pull Keith into opening up as well.

“You should have seen his face the moment he caught sight of Hot Topic. Dude was like a kid in a candy store,” he laughs. His parents chuckle, both looking fondly at Keith and Lance wished the guy would lift his head so he could see it too.

“Really? You made mom spend that much money on shitty gothic clothes?”

* * *

 

_I know, they shouldn’t have wasted so much money on me._

He curls further into himself, bangs falling across his face, attempting to hide. He wishes he could just disappear.

“Marcus! Mom buys you things twice as expensive. Besides, if Keith wants a few band shirts what’s it any of your business?” Maria snaps.

_Because I’m not your family._

“Whatever,” he scoffs back.

“She did spend like, two grand on him today.” Keith bites his lip as one of Lance’s sisters’ pipes in.

_I will never be able to pay that back. I need a job. I need three._

“Oh hush, the lot of you. I have no problem buying Keith things. For as long as he’ll be staying here I want him to want for nothing. He’s a part of this family now and you will all treat him as one.”

_I’m not._

“Oh come on, mom! He’ll be out of here in a few months. There’s a reason he was bounced around in-“

“Shut up!” Lance yells.

Keith jolts at the loud noise, hand gripping the fork too tightly. He squeezes he eyes shut and bites down harder, the metallic taste of blood hitting his tongue. He isn’t going to be hit, it’s just Lance. Lance. Not Dan.

_He’s angry._

“What’s your problem?! Just lay off already! You’re acting like a class A douchebag!” Lance yells. He stands up, fists clenched around the edge of the table. Keith doesn’t understand why he’s so angry.

“Mijo!”

The table is chaos after that. There’s yelling and screaming from everyone, most trying to calm down Marcus and Lance who’s too focused on yelling at each other that neither of them notice the way Keith is slowly starting to shake.

_Please stop. Stop. I didn’t want to upset your family. I didn’t want this._

He drops his fork but the clang of it against the plate is drowned out by the yelling of Lance’s sisters. He doesn’t know why they’re yelling but everything suddenly gets too loud.

_I destroyed too many families. I didn’t want to destroy this one too._

His fingers dig into the flesh of his arms, nails carving crescents into his skin. It’s too much.

_I should leave. I should die._

He shoves his chair back and runs. His shoes are left by the door, his jacket left on the bed but he doesn’t care. He won’t need them.

_They spent so much on me. And I’m wasting their money._

He ignores the thoughts. Pushes past the initial shock of cold that seeps into his skin when he’s outside, past the violent jolt of ice that meets his bare feet as they slam on the asphalt. He hopes he freezes to death. A painful way to die for the things he’s done.

_Maybe Dan was right._

_Maybe it was better for my mother to leave._

_Maybe my father just wanted to get away from me._

_Maybe the foster families were right in sending me back._

_Maybe I deserved to be hit._

He runs as fast as he can. His feet hurt and his lungs burn but he can’t stop. He can’t be anywhere close to where they’ll look for him.

_If they look._

It seems like he’s running for hours, racking up miles, when he inevitably, clumsily, trips over something, probably his own two feet, and falls. He catches himself on his hands and knees, both getting a little banged up from the fall. He hisses as he pulls his hands to his chest. They burn from the road rash and suddenly he’s tired. Exhausted.

Low.

He’s felt suicidal before, but this is the first time he’s felt low enough to try. He’s just fucked up Lance’s family and he’s sure they’ve never yelled at a family dinner before. The way Lance acts, like his family acting the way they are is a foreign concept. Like they’ve never fought so openly before. It tears Keith apart that he’s the cause of Lance looking so upset at his family.

_I fucked it up. I fuck everything up. Maybe I’m not meant to be around people._

He backs up against a tree, one of the many that are suddenly around him. He has no idea where he’s at and he can’t see much, just the dark silhouettes of the tree’s, branches bare and the leaves scraping against each other and the single paved pathway he’d been running on in the gentle, freezing wind.

He shivers violently, arms wrapped around himself. He’s cold. Cold and scared. He doesn’t want to do this. He knew he’d kill himself eventually. There was just no way out. But then Dan was arrested and Lance was there and…and now he’s alone.

_Always alone._

**You deserve to be alone.**

He flinches back away from the voice. It’s him. It’s him. He knows that voice. Keith frantically looks around, head whipping from one side to the other, trying to find him.

There’s no one there. He’s going crazy.

_I’ve always been insane._

He grips two large handfuls of his hair and pulls. The pain grounds him.

What he wouldn’t do for his knife right now.

He curls further into himself as the tears start. They burn trails down his checks and make him feel weaker. **Pathetic.**

_Useless. Useless. Useless._

He claws at the wounds at his wrists, feels the warmth trickle down his arm and breathes. He’s sobbing, fat, ugly tears that drop onto his arms, mixing the near scorching blood with icy salt water. The wind kicks up a flurry of leaves and the breeze chills him to the bone.

There are no street lamps and the moon is barely a crescent shape in the sky. It’s bordering on pitch black out and while he’s not particularly scared of the dark, being in an open area that he’s unfamiliar with sends prickles of discomfort up his spine. Keith curls tighter into himself and wishes, not for the first time, that he’d carried his knife with him instead of stashing it in the bottom of the bag containing his belongings.

_If only I’d killed myself years ago. Lance wouldn’t be burdened by me. Lance would have moved on, dated someone he likes, someone he’s attracted to. He wouldn’t be stuck with such a fucking loser._

**He’s stuck with a bitch. Bend over for him, make all this worth his while.**

There’s a sound close to a whimper that escapes from his throat. He wants to tear his vocal cords out. He hates feeling this weak, being this weak. He’s not supposed to let Dan win like this, but he is. Funny how when Dan isn’t around Keith agrees with him, plays into that roll like a puppet.

He’s never hated himself more.

* * *

 

“ENOUGH!” Echoes of the word ricochets down the empty hallways and the resulting silence is deafening. Mrs. McClain, while trying to always be cheery and kind, friendly and loving yet stern, as a parent should be, can also become the type of fierce warrior one does not want to encounter. Her family is her life and she has always fought to protect it, fought to let it strive in any way it can but this is not how she raised them. This behavior is appalling.

“I will not have this behavior in my house. I have raised all of you better. I have not judged you, belittled you, or hurt you in the ways you have to Keith in the day he’s been here. Keith is from a bad home, with a bad childhood, and the least he deserves now is a home he can feel welcome in. I should have stopped this long before it got to this point. Marcus, I’m so disappointed in you.

“I feel like I failed. Neo, I thought you were more independent than this, feeding off Marcus’s prejudice like you have. Now, I will discuss punishments later. We have to find Keith first. It’s below freezing out there and he has no shoes and no coat. Not to mention the poor child self-harms. We have to find him. Honey, you call the police. Maria and Neo, you go as a team and look for him towards the park, Desmona and Carla, you look towards the city, Marcus and Lance, you stay here and work whatever this is out.”

“But mama-“ Lance starts.

“No. You two will work out whatever it is that’s making you two behave this way and when you can be civil, sit in the same room without this awkward tension hanging in the air, you can join us in looking. I don’t need either of you finding Keith and making this worse. I suggest you talk fast. Now everyone split up and let’s look.” Her voice brooks no arguments and the anger surrounding her dissipates as she moves to get her coat; her transfixed audience silently moves to gather the things they need to begin the search. Lance’s father is talking quietly into his phone.

Lance and Marcus are glaring at each other as the rest of their family leave. Once the house is quiet Lance takes a calm seat at the table, pushing the plates still piled with food to the side. It’s all cold now, a waste of their mother’s amazing cooking.

“Look, let’s just hurry this up. I want to find Keith.”

“What do you care?! You’ve complained about Keith Kogane for years, about how he shows you up every day! What do you care about him now?” Marcus screeches. He slams his hand down on the table, dishes rattling from the movement.

Lance’s brows knit together and his lips curve downwards. “I care because I know what’s going on now. Marcus, it’s not the same. Yeah, Keith infuriated me with his good scores and how easily he got girls’ attention, but I know better now. His life is a shit storm and his grades are probably the only thing he has. Do you remember, that day I didn’t come down to dinner because I was crying so hard about those first stupid lines on my wrist?”

Lance waits for nod from Marcus.

“I cried because it meant my soulmate was cutting themselves. I don’t care that Keith was a jerk to me because I was a jerk to him too. The difference is mom was here. Dad was here. You and Neo and Maria and Dessy and Carla; you were all here for me. Keith had to go home to that prick who beat the living shit out him. I know, I had the bruises for hours. I watched them pop up for hours at a time, one after the other,” he feels the pressure of tears in the backs of his eyes and slowly inhales.

“I fucked it up too. If I’d just, stopped taking everything out on Keith maybe his life wouldn’t have been as bad because he wouldn’t have had to deal with a giant asshole at school too. Mr. Iverson is the dick, always comparing me to Keith and his scores. Hell, if I’d just talked to him after the talent show…maybe I’d be dating my soulmate.”

“That’s just it Lance, he’s your soulmate but it doesn’t make sense. You’re not gay! Have never been gay. You are heterosexual, and you have a male soulmate. The universe fucked up. You shouldn’t be throwing away your life for a mistake,” he’s speaking calmly but Lance hears the passion behind his voice. He believes everything he’s saying and it strikes Lance like a slap to the face.

“Keith is **not** a mistake,” he says back.

“I’m not saying he is. I’m saying the fact that you’re his soulmate is. If you were bound for anyone else, any girl out there, you wouldn’t give a damn about that kid. You’re throwing your life away chasing a mistake.”

“I admit, I’ve been focused on my soulmate for all my life. I’ve dreamed about it so many times. I thought for sure it’d be a girl and that we’d live happily ever after once I met her. We’d fall in love and that’d be that. But…Look, Marcus, I know. I’m not throwing my life away. If things don’t work out with Keith fine. I don’t know if I like him, if I will ever be attracted to him in a romantic way, but I want to try. Whatever chose us to be together, I want to see if they’re right. But I can’t do that if he’s dead because your being an asshole.”

“I just…what if you meet the girl who could make you happy but you’re so focused on a suicidal guy, this bullshit soulmate idea, that you miss her? Your Soulmate has been the focus for your life, and I know it’s hard to let yourself down from expectations but maybe you need to. How long term are you thinking of taking this? Years of therapy? Years of constant worry that when you come back home, he’ll be on the floor of the shower with empty pill bottles around? You’ve fought before. You complain about your arguments all the time. Those don’t just go away, Lance.”

“I know. And I’m not asking you to like it or to like him. But you have got to cool it. Stop being such an asshole. Take away the soulmates, the connection. Just see him as an abused kid that needs help. You don’t say the shit you do to suicidal people. To anyone. Would you be okay if someone said that shit to me?”

The quite after that sentence steals the breath from Lance’s lungs. He’s on the very brink of crying when Marcus seems to deflate. The fight leaving his lungs, the tension leaving his shoulders. He’s rubbing at his temples and sighing.

“No. I’d probably punch their lights out. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was taking it out on him and it’s neither of your faults. He’s not seducing you. You’re seduced by the soulmate idea. And one day you’ll realize how stupid of an idea it is. We shouldn’t have fed you all those ideas about it in the first place. Let’s go look for him.”

It’s not the apology he’s looking for but he’ll take it. If it means he can help find Keith before something bad happens he’ll take the easy out. There’ll be plenty of time to talk things out with his brother later. Because he will. He needs to.

Marcus is the best friend he got to grow up with. He’s known Hunk for years, true, but he’s grown up with Marcus, strived to be like him and then, as he grew older, strived to simply make him proud. The disappointment he gets from him is hurtful. Lance just want’s Marcus to be proud of him. For putting his rivalry aside to help another human being. For finding his soulmate. For things he’s said he’d do and then did. But now that he’s done those things, he feels deeper regret about them because he’s seeing a disappointed Marcus instead of a proud one. He feels like he’s failing but not at the same time. It’s confusing.

* * *

 

The shivering is becoming violent. It’ll be hours yet until he gets numb. Until the cold becomes warm and his body sits still and he relaxes. Dying by freezing is a long wait and he hates it. The longer he waits the longer he thinks. His thoughts were dark to begin with and now that he’s basically thrown away another family he thinks about that. About the snippets of stories Matt tells about Lance. About how he strived to beat Keith, just once, at anything. How he’d pout on their sofa for hours, grumbling to an unconcerned Katie about it. How Hunk would pat his back and tell him how he’ll surely do better next time.

He thinks about the texts he and Lance shared before the Reveal. The glance he got into Lance’s happy home life. He’d complain about his sisters being loud in the mornings and his brother jumping on his bed to wake him up and inevitably tripping over Lance’s long ass legs and spraining his ankle falling off.

The time Lance sent him a picture of a leaf stapled to a leafless tree, captioned: ‘I will survive.’

The story he told once about his older brother trying to flirt with a girl and ended up somehow hitting on her sister and they both slapped him. Keith doesn’t remember that story well be he thinks Marcus probably deserved it.

The wind ghosts against his prickled skin and he jolts. His body is trying to preserve heat and he wished it’d just give up already. His body is apparently a lot stronger than his mind.

He thinks about Dan, pushing him down in the living room and kicking his stomach over and over. He thinks about the kaleidoscope of colors that mottled his skin for days after. He wonders what it looked like on Lance’s tan skin. How long it lasted.

He thinks about how Lance must have reacted when he first saw those thin lines appear on his wrists. How he’d sent that text after he’d cut again, and they’d just started communicating. ‘What’s going on? I thought U stopped cutting.’

As if he could. He remembers feeling low for disappointing his soulmate like he always knew he would. Finding out it was Lance didn’t change that disappointment. He liked Lance. Had the makings of a crush forming on him and then, low and behold, the universe fucks him over again. Lance as his soulmate. Like that would ever happen. It’s like dangling a treat in front of a starving dog, telling the dog it was his, and then surprise, another dog, _a female dog_ , snatches it and runs. Because that is what would happen. Eventually.

Lance isn’t gay. His dating history says he isn’t. His, very extensive, dating history says he isn’t. And if he’s bi, well, then a male or female dog gets that treat because it still won’t be him. He’s the kicked down and drug low stray with mange and hip dysplasia. Lance deserves someone a lot less fucked up than him. What kind of life would they get anyway?

Lance, always looking over his shoulder to make sure Keith is still there; still alive and breathing and not dead by his own doing.

Lance, forgoing his family to be by his side.

Lance, paying for him because he’s broke with no future.

Lance…He’s making this more miserable than it should be. There was never a Lance and him scenario. He was better off running out before he could make any sort of attachment to Lance’s family. Because it is Lance’s family. Not his. He will never belong with anyone. There is no family for him. He knows, he’s tried one to many times.

Dan was the result. He was happy with his wife, they were great before Keith came along. He’s not sure what he did but he must have done something to destroy the marriage they had. It took his parents less than four years to give him up, his own blood related parents. If they didn’t want him what chance did he have with strangers?

He curls harsh fingers in his hair as he tries to remember them. A fragile woman with no features, a tall man with no face. His memory of them…heavy sobs wrack his thin frame and he lets it out. For once he doesn’t try to quiet the noise. He lets the hiccups come freely, the keening and whimpering let loose like an opened flood gate. He pulls at the mess of hair and openly cries because there is no one to see him crumble. There is no one to care if he isn’t the strong, silent loner, Keith. He can be weak and there is no one to care.

_Shiro cares._

Shiro will move on. The poor man’s taken care of Keith enough. He deserves to focus on his own life now. He knows about Keith’s problems now and he can’t let his only friend waste precious time on him. On something so pathetic. He fought in all the little ways he could against Dan and now that he can actually fight, he’s giving up instead. He feels like an idiot for growing his hair.

For trying.

Living.

He bites at his lip, already swollen and bleeding, and whimpers when it hurts. Pathetic.

He feels the lowest here, sitting alone in the dark on the verge of freezing after ruining Mrs. McClain’s hard made dinner. Upsetting her well put together family.

‘I know how to braid hair. I could totes do yours?’

He remembers that text from Lance. How it put butterflies in his stomach thinking about someone liking his hair. That he had long enough hair to let his soulmate do so. He might as well chop it all off. He’s not annoying Dan with it now, he’s just got it. He could cut it. There was some article he read once, something about girls cutting their hair and using it to make a near 180 with their life.

He could do that…

_You can’t change the past. Only turn your back on it. It’s still there._

Keith lets his head fall back and hit the tree he’s sitting against. There’s no pain in it, not the kind of pain he wants.

And then, it’s like clouds split and what splinter of moonlight is available lights up a single trash can. He must be in some woodsy park. That one trash can has a glass bottle. It’s unsanitary and probably a terrible idea but if he breaks it…

He stands on trembling legs, body becoming just slightly stiff. Making his way over he only stumbles a few times and when his fingers barely brush the glass he jerks it back. It’s cold. Obviously, it would be. He grabs the neck and pulls the bottle free. It’s some throwback soda he’s never heard of. Doesn’t matter. Keith brings the bottle back, ready to smash it over the metal rim of the trash can but his arm shakes. His arm droops a few inches but something freezes his movement and he raises it back up.

_Just do it. Use the bottle to end it all. Right here, right now._

He shuts his eyes so tightly it hurts and brings his arm down quickly. The bottle smashes, the noise loud but if no one’s around to hear it did it happen? He laughs a little too manically for something that could barely be considered a joke.

He’s left with the neck of the bottle and a lot of little shards. Maybe a few big ones littering the ground but the jagged edge of the bottle neck is all he needs. He slinks back to the tree and resumes his previous position.

Excitement flows through his body and he smiles; just like the first time.

He’d been young, he doesn’t remember how old, when it had become too much. He’s heard about self-harm, had teachers talk about it in school and a few kids in the orphanage did it; the older ones. They cut. He watched them sometimes. It was both horrifying and fascinating. The blood would drip on their clothes and no one would bat an eye in their direction when they saw it.

It was long after Dan started abusing him that he cut for the first time. He remembers the way his hand shook so hard. His first line was barely deep enough to break the first layer of skin. He’d gotten angry. Not sure why. But it had been the set off to a spiral he’d later regret. And then it would become a horrible addiction, a need.

He’s 17 and that need is controlling his life. He remembers the five lines he made that night. He cried from the pain. It hurt. It hurt but not enough for him to stop. The next night was five more to the other wrist. They hurt too.

Months later his wrists are so marked up he doesn’t own a short-sleeved shirt anymore. Dan knows, beats the living shit out of him for it. But then he just smiles and says how he’s so glad he broke him. Keith had shaken his head and tried to deny it. Dan grabbed his wrists and shoved them into his face.

**You did this to yourself. Tell me you aren’t broken.**

He’d laughed, so sickeningly arrogant. So full of himself. So...proud. Keith felt so ashamed four hours later when he carved so deep he had to hold towels to his wrists for nearly an hour to stop the bleeding. And by then he was so tired he passed out.

Keith jolts as the scene around him focuses. Maria. She’s fighting with him. She’s throwing the bottle away and pulling him into her chest. There’s blood all over his clothes, all over hers now too.

_Her clothes. They were probably expensive._

He’s vaguely aware that he’s crying and struggling to get away from her, to keep his filthy blood to himself.

There’s a mumbling of voices but he isn’t sure who’s talking. Maria. Maria is one. But the other…he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. But there’s crying. That’s him. He’s crying. He doesn’t regret what he’s done. With all this blood there’s…he’ll probably die soon, bleed out. But he’ll do it in Maria’s arms and he’ll die with that as his biggest regret. He’s trembling and running fingers through his hair, smearing blood over his face and matting his hair together. His breathing is erratic. It’s never been this bad before. He’s never been this bad before. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom! Hope you liked this! Remember, comments release further chapters so...I'll be waiting.


	6. Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song title by Hands Like Houses
> 
> Be honest with yourself  
> Do you see in your reflection someone else  
> You're fogging up the glass, and looking for direction  
> So close you can't see past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOHOO! HE LIVES! Haha, so here's the next chapter. More angst because I don't know what fluff is apparently. But, enjoy the end of the chapter for a surprise! Thanks to some great feedback I cranked this chapter out super quick despite the hectic schedule work has taken lately. Enjoy! Sorry for any spelling errors, BTW, posted quickly so it didn't get the editing it deserved.

She’s scared. In 21 years she’s never faced terror such as this and she’s an avid horror fan. She’s gone to some of the most haunted places in the US and watched nearly every horror movie known to man. She’s seen the loss of human life in her grandma as she’d fallen down a flight of stairs and even that wasn’t as scary as this.

She’d been with Neo searching around the nearby park, around the playground and surrounding picnic area when she’s heard the shatter of glass. It’d spooked Neo enough for him to tug on her arm and plead with her to get the F out of there, but she’d been sent on a mission and if Keith was here she wasn’t leaving yet.

Maria had tugged and nearly dragged Neo down the sparsely lit pathway into the more wooded are of the park, used more by joggers and pet owners when she’d spotted the reflective pieces of glass in her flashlight. She shined the light around, glancing over a figure huddled next to a tree for less than a second before doing a double take. She’d nearly screamed. Neo did.

The figure was sitting down next to a tree, knees pulled up to his chest and the neck of the bottle clenched tightly in his left fist. He looked so small, huddled in on himself like that. What scared her, made her pulse jump and then skip a beat? The blood. God, there was so much blood already and the kid looked far from stopping. He was hacking away at his own arm, slicing such deep gouges into his arms from wrist to elbow, the jagged end pieces of the bottle breaking off from the harsh force he applied.

She had to stop it. Stop him. She’d thrown the flashlight and her phone at Neo and ordered him to call the police, let them know the situation and then call the family, starting with Lance and Marcus who would be the closest and fastest to arrive. She needed help. _Keith_ needed help. She’d dove to her knees in front of him, grabbing the bottle and chucking it as far away as possible before pulling the boy into her arms, forcing his head down on her chest. She notices the tears still flowing down his checks and feels the prickle of her own. Deep breaths. She can’t cry. Keith needs her to be strong.

So here they are. Maria, scared shitless that she’s holding onto a kid, no older than her favorite baby brother, who’s in such a bad place he’s trying to kill himself with her other baby brother having seen in all. Though, maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe he’ll be traumatized by this but maybe it’ll make him think twice before bullying another human being. Maybe this little experience, this insight, will stop his Marcus-back-pack bullying of a kid so hurt by others he won’t even fight back.

Maybe that’s what she didn’t like about Keith. It’s not even the kids fault. Probably. But the fact that he never fought back, never spoke back, to Marcus, to Neo, to anyone who talked bad about him, made fun of him, criticized him, angered her. She’s had her time as meek, but she’d grown out of that some time in middle school, adopting a headstrong, more alpha female, personality. And as such, she’d adopted friends of like minds, the more omega personalities staying far away from a girl too capable and assertive for their liking. And as such, she’d avoided them, their acceptance of their placement in life mildly infuriating.

She saw a lot of that in Keith. Acceptance to the hand he’d been dealt and not looking for a way to enhance it, to better it. It was slightly infuriating to watch, to listen to. But could she blame him? She doesn’t know what he’s been through. Her parents had explained the basics of his home life before and it had been enough to turn her stomach. But she didn’t know details, what the exact abuse was.

“No, get back,” the boy in her arms whimpers out. She feels hands hover over her arms before grabbing them and pushing them apart. Keith is shaking violently, his skin ice cold already. His voice is weak, barely a whisper and she struggles to hear him despite being so close.

“Keith, it’s me, Maria.  We’re calling an ambulance, you’ll be okay, we’ll get help,” she tells him. Her words fall on deaf ears as Keith continues to struggle against her. He pushes at her arms weakly, and protests something she can’t decipher.

 “Blood…sorry…clothes…sorry…”

The realization jolts her back. “My clothes don’t matter, Keith. Let me keep you warm,” she pins his arms down with her own and hugs him tightly to her chest again. She’s cold with a thick coat on and she knows Keith must be on the verge of hypothermia. He’s been out here for nearly an hour in single digit weather with no coat or shoes. And he’s lost so much blood. It’s sticky and tacky against her skin and the only saving grace is the fact that it’s so dark she can’t see how much is on her. She must be wearing so much of it. The area probably looks like a murder scene from Dexter.

“No…sorry…stop…” Keith mutters. He’s barely audible over the quiet rustle of the leaves on the pavement and she shifts him in her arms so he’s face to face with her, barely inches apart. She listens quietly for his next words. “The bloods getting all over you, sorry. I’m sorry. I’m filthy,” he whispers.

Tears fall from her eyes slowly as she breaks. Lance had complained so often about Keith. About a boy with such good grades and a bad attitude, so standoffish, that he’d hated him nearly the second they’d met. She knew from the start it was Lance’s inferiority complex talking more than this alleged Keith that was tearing her brother’s hair out. She remembers taking him to parties to liven him up when he’d fallen just four or five points short of beating Keith. Remembers dragging a highly buzzed Lance home and sneaking him back into the house.

Maria wonders how that Keith was anything like this one, because surely the one Lance complained and whined about so often couldn’t be anything like this one. The one currently shifting in her hold in attempts to get his ‘filthy blood’ away from her. She simply holds on tighter and lets the tears flow.

* * *

Neo screams. He’s not a horror fan, doesn’t understand Maria’s love of gore and the paranormal, doesn’t share her weird tastes. He stares, enraptured at the horrific scene before him, before a flashlight is hitting him in the chest and a phone is thrown at him. Maria has guts, trusting him to catch her delicate phone when he can’t catch a baseball thrown four feet from him but to his own surprise he catches it.

“Call the police, get an ambulance, and then call the family. Start with Marcus and Lance,” she orders. Neo nods his head and turns around, placing the flashlight on the ground. He might throw up but first he knows he has to get an ambulance on the way. He’s in biology and while his teacher hasn’t outright taught them about the amounts of blood in the human body he knows Keith needs all of it and by the amount that’s on his clothes and the ground around him…he needs an ambulance.

The cops say they’re on their way and ask him to stay on the line. He says he has to notify the family and hangs up. Not exactly polite but he’s running on fear and adrenaline and orders form his older sister. The phone rings as he calls Lance’s cell. He assumes Marcus will be the one driving.

“Hello, Neo? Did you two find him?” Lance sounds worried, scared, and he wonders why for all of six seconds.

“Yeah, yeah…We uh, he’s at the park. Lance, Maria needs help. I called the cops, they’re sending an ambulance this way. We’re on the jogger’s path behind the playground.” His voice cuts out and he has to clear his throat. He’s stuttering and shaking. God, this sucks.

“An ambulance, oh God. Okay, we’re close by there. Have you called everyone else?”

“Not yet. Maria said to call you two first. Lance, there’s so much blood.”

He hears the gasp over the phone and then the background questions from Marcus. “We’ll be there in three minutes, call everyone else,” Lance says and then the phone beeps the end of the call in his ear. So he calls the rest of the family, relaying the same things and when everyone is on their way he hangs up and sets the phone in his pocket.

He breathes deeply to hold off the nausea before he turns back around, flashlight picked up off the ground, and promptly drops the light of the flashlight onto the ground in front of them. The blood on the grass is lit up but he ignores it. He focuses on the silhouettes of Keith and Maria. She’s fighting with him, arms trying to wrap him up but he’s pushing her back, shaking his head and faintly mumbling something that he can’t hear.

She says something in return and wraps her arms around his, pinning them to his side. He digs bloody fingers into the back of her jacket and pulls her back, still trying to get space between them. Neo doesn’t understand why. Maria gives the best hugs. Sure, he complains about it but she’s his older sister and she’s always treating him like a child and he’s not. So he complains about the hugs and the kisses to his cheeks because he’s friends tease him about it but he knows, they’re the best hugs. Totally.

 “The bloods getting all over you, sorry. I’m sorry. I’m filthy,” he hears faintly. Keith…thinks he’s filthy? Is he talking about the dirt on his clothes or the…the blood? He doesn’t understand completely but he thinks it doesn’t really matter. She’s covered with as much of Keith’s blood as he is at this point.

“Y-y-you sh-shouldn’t be h-h-here,” he stutters. Neo may be young, but he isn’t stupid. There have been suicides at his school and there’s constantly talk about the epidemic on the television. He’s just…never seen anything like it before. He can’t help but think about how huge a difference it is to simply hear about it and the various ways verses seeing it. Seeing the blood and the tears and to hear the persons voice so full of fear. He thinks, Keith probably isn’t afraid of what he’s done but of the fact that they’re witnessing the act. It’s a stomach-turning thought.

He doesn’t know Keith. Knows nearly nothing about him except the things Lance had always said about him and they weren’t the kindest of things. So when Marcus had started making little jokes about him, Neo had joined in because what was the harm in a few stupid jokes? The dude deserved it, right? Surely anyone who messed with his big brother and made him so angry deserved to be made fun of.

He’s starting to think differently. If Keith dies, it’s partially his fault. He saw how upset the things he said made Keith feel. Saw how the guy clamped his mouth shut and averted eye contact. How he quietly took it, like even he felt he deserved it, and maybe that’s the reason Neo kept at it, escalated it. Because if Keith thought he deserved it then he did. Neo doesn’t think anyone deserves to feel so bad they do this.

He’s cut his arm before on a stick that was stuck in the ground, he’s cut his fingers with a kitchen knife helping his mother cook, and he’d cried both of those times because it had hurt. And here was Keith, jamming glass into his arm over and over in such large gashes. Neo knows it hurts and he doesn’t understand how someone can do that. It hurts. Why would you do that?

His councilor had said that people who cut do it because they like the pain. He doesn’t understand how that works. How can someone like pain?

“Please...” Neo hears. Keith is silently pleading, his voice so thick with emotion Neo starts to tear up. “Go away, it’s better for everyone,” he says.

Neo’s veins turn to ice in his body and his heart pumps hard in his chest. What did he do? What happened to him that he thinks that?

* * *

The cars quiet as he speeds down the road. Lance had hung up the phone shortly after answering and while he couldn’t hear the conversation he’s sure it wasn’t good. So he speeds twenty over the limit, uncaring of cops, and screeches to a halt in an empty parking spot. Lance is out of the car before it’s even fully stopped and running, sprinting, into the park. Marcus hopes out and follows, turning to lock the car before catching up.

At first, he wonders if they went the right way. The lights are thinning out and then they disappear altogether and its near pitch blackness with the little moonlight available. Lance takes his phone from his pocket and turns on the flashlight and then keeps running. Marcus follows.

Then…then his breath halts in his lungs and he’s sure he can’t possibly be seeing this. His little sister holding a corpse in her arms, her bloody arms, while she cries. Neo stands a bit away, nearly in the same state as Maria. Keith whimpers and pulls back on Maria’s jacket with too tight fists covered in blood and he breathes, a loud exhale of tension and apprehension.

“Lance? Oh God, thank God you’re here. Help me,” Maria pleads. Lance kneels next to her and pushes her gently to the side to take Keith from her. Marcus, jolting from his shock, grabs Maria and holds her to his chest as she cries and shakes and tries to avoid looking at the blood on her. Marcus doesn’t care about the transfer as he pulls her close and holds her freezing hands in his. The stickiness of the blood repulses him but he’s supporting family, it doesn’t matter.

“I’ve got you, it’s okay, we’ll get you help,” Lance tells Keith. He sounds calm but scared. Keith shakes his head and Marcus notices how hard he’s shivering, teeth clacking. Lance pulls off his hoodie and drapes it over Keith’s shoulders before pulling him into his chest and rubbing his hands up and down the boys arms. Trying to warm him up. Marcus thinks it’s probably a waste of energy now. The kids lost so much blood already…

“Lance?” The boys voice is muffled by Lance’s chest and so weak Marcus fears it’s his last words ever spoken.

“Right here, Mullet. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. Marcus hates the sound of it. Of a suicidal kid, and yes, he’s a fucking kid still, saying he’s sorry. For what? He’s been a jerk to Keith since the kid stepped foot on their porch and he’d expected him to fight back, to deck him at some points, but he’d taken it. Allowed the harsh words and childish bullying without a word of protest. As if he agreed. He’d told Keith to stay away from his family, to leave Lance out of his fucked-up life and move out the moment he got the chance. He wishes he hadn’t opened his mouth. He still doesn’t want Keith anywhere near Lance, least his soulmate-crazed brother falls into a faux love with him, but he doesn’t think the boy deserves this. To feel so terrible he thinks he’s doing anyone a favor by dying.

“Don’t be. It’s okay now, Keith.” Lance smiles and runs a hand through the matted hair, gently lifting his fingers when he’s met with tangles. Marcus watches as Keith seems to burrow into him. A pit forms in his stomach. Keith had been pushing Maria away from him but Lance holds him and the guy becomes goo in his arms…

He squeezes Maria tighter and brings Neo in by the front of his shirt. Neither of them should be seeing this right now. He holds them tight and waits. The sirens in the distant grow louder and louder as do Lance’s pleads for Keith to stay awake but it’s a failing battle as the kids eye’s close and he slumps heavily on Lance.

* * *

The first thing he’s aware of is the beeping. It’s incessant and shrill, a never changing pattern that has the beginning of a headache starting. He tries to lift his arms to rub at his temples but he can’t move them. He wonders why but then assumes Dan beat the shit out of him and he took the brunt of it to his arms in defense. It’s happened before.

He really needs to stop the beeping though. It’s beginning to get on his nerves. He cracks his eyes open, thankful that the light in his room is off, and opens them further. The action draws a groan from his lips as his head splits open.

“Glad you’re awake, Mr. Kogane. How are you feeling?” The voice is chipper and feminine and grates on his nerves for some reason. He grunts a nonverbal reply and turns his head to search for her. “My names Kenya Freight and I’m the social worker that was assigned to your case. I know you just woke up and you probably have a splitting headache that we’ll have the nurses take care of but I have a few questions I have to ask you, would that be okay?” She gestures to the nurse in the corner who inches the lights on just a bit so they can see.

He wants to say hell no. He’s in pain and can’t remember the last few hours, hell, the last few days probably, and he really just wants to enjoy the time he has that doesn’t involve being around Dan. He’s hurting, and he knows the nurse will give him a high dose of Morphine for the pain and it’ll dope him off his ass in a weird sort of way because this has all happened before. It’s almost standard procedure for him now. He wonders how bad Dan did him in this time and what the lie is.

“Keith? I need a response,” she says gently. She’s sitting beside his bed, some middle-aged lady with dark black hair and ghostly green eyes. She’s smiling in that pityingly sweet way that feels like a drill to his teeth and he nods at her. If he answers quickly she’ll leave a lot faster.

“Do you remember why you came to the hospital?” She lifts her clipboard up and awaits his answer. He shakes his head. Better she tell him the lie Dan told than fuck up and say something. “You were found in a local park with deep cuts on your arms and-“

Keith knows she’s still talking but he’s shaking his head. That couldn’t be right. He didn’t…He hasn’t cut deep enough to cause a hospital trip ever. He’s not stupid, Dan would upright kill him for pulling a stunt like that and he doesn’t actually want to die.

“Keith? Are you alright?”

And like that it’s all back. His head throbs and then he remembers. The bottle, the smash. He doesn’t remember cutting but the bandages around his arms says otherwise. He remembers Maria and Neo and then…Lance. They’d seen him. He never wanted them to see him like that, bloody and upset and clearly trying to kill himself. Jesus, Neo’s only what, twelve? He doesn’t need to see shit like that.

“Keith, I’m sure you’re remembering everything and that’s good. But I need you to answer these questions. Did the McClain’s say or do anything that caused you to attempt what you did?”

_You mean suicide?_ Yeah, Marcus and Neo kind of did but also no, not at all. Because they were nice. They were amazing. And had Keith been a part of that family from the beginning maybe he wouldn’t have turned out so jaded and awful and scared and angry. Maybe he’d turned out to be a lot like Lance instead, outgoing and funny and friendly and open.

It’s all maybe’s that are pointless to think over.

“No, they were amazing,” he says. And they were. “They bought me so much stuff and fed me and…no, they didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“That’s good to hear. The family is outside and they would like to come in to talk to you. I’ll be back to check on your vitals for the next couple of days and when you’re to be released you have a decision to make. While you say they’re great, you did try to commit suicide. So I want you to think long and hard about what’ll be best for you. You can decided to stay with the McClain family or go into another foster home for the remaining months. Of course, you can also file for independence. The government has programs in place to help you should you decide to follow that route. Please think it over and I’ll ask for your decision at a later date.

“For now, the nurse will give you some morphine for the pain I’m quite sure you’re feeling. I’ll let the McClain’s know that they may come see you the next time you awake. I hear morphine puts you to sleep so sleep tight.” She winks at him as she leaves, clipboard hugged to her chest. The nurse from the corner smiles too widely at him as she injects the needle into the tube already in his arm. He notices the effects immediately. Morphine has always been a little different for him. Yes, it chases the pain away quickly and wonderfully, but it also numbs him. Like, his emotions. He’s noticed while on the medication he’s always eerily calm. Emotionless, like he wishes he could be. It would make living a lot easier.

The social worker is right about one thing, it does put him out quickly. He closes his eyes on a yawn and fades out to the beeping growing quieter and quieter.

* * *

“Desmona, why don’t you take Maria, Neo, Marcus, and Lance home, to clean up? The social worker said it’ll be a few hours before he wakes up,” his mama says. Lance scoffs and bluntly refuses.

“No. I’m not leaving.”

“Hun, he won’t wake up before you get back. Promise. But you are covered in his blood and you need a shower,” she says. Her voice is gentle and understanding, motherly. He wants to leave because the blood has long since dried on his skin and he can’t bare to look in the mirror much less look down. It’s a rusty maroon color now, tinting his caramel skin with a rust like hue and it makes his stomach turn. He’s queasy around blood, okay. Doesn’t matter if it’s his own or someone else’s.

“No. Please, mama, I can’t leave him here.” He watches her frown deepen just a little bit before she smiles thinly, nods.

“Okay, the rest of you go clean up and then you can come back.”

No one else argues. They hug their parents and their siblings and leave. Maria squeezes him extra hard before she leaves. Lance smiles shyly at her, locking eyes so he doesn’t have to see the blood coating her…everything.

Shiro, Matt, Pidge, and Hunk are there too, surrounding him and smiling. Shiro had, understandably, freaked out when he got the call, speeding all the way to the hospital where he frantically asked the nurse on Keith’s condition multiple times before Mrs. McClain had called him over and explained the situation. She’d done so twice more as the others arrived.

Hunk drapes his arms over his shoulders and squeezes. Lance is still shaking, blood soaked hoodie in his hands. He can’t stand the sight of blood but he keeps looking at it. His favorite jacket has Keith’s blood all over it. How does one even get blood out of clothes? Will it ever come out? Will he ever be able to look at it without the memory of tonight burned into his skull?

“Shiro? He’ll be okay now,” Matt says. He’s got a sleeping Pidge in his lap and his arm draped over Shiro’s shoulders. Shiro looks…bad. Lance feels guilty. He bets if Keith moved in with the Shirogane’s he’d be a lot happier than he is-was with them.

“I know. He’s stable and okay physically. Matt, do you think we could done something, helped somehow? Could I have…done something, before it came to this?” He’s speaking quietly, meant only for Matt but the room can hear him and Lance’s heart squeezes. He could. Lance could have done a shit ton of things differently and maybe they wouldn’t be sitting in a sterile hospital waiting room at one o’clock in the morning waiting for Keith to wake up after trying to kill himself.

He closes his eyes and breathes.

“Honey, it’ll be okay,” his mama says. He wants to believe her. He really does. But deep down he feels like she’s wrong. Like Keith’s too far gone to come back, to be ‘okay’ again. How long as it been since he was ‘okay’ anyway?

He leans into his mother’s side, Hunk having left to find a vending machine and get Lance something to snack on. He closes his eyes and imagines a happy Keith. A Keith with a normal family and a normal life. He imagines that once cocky smile on Keith’s face and wishes he could see it just one more time.

* * *

The next time he wakes up it’s to voices. Whispered and quiet but it wakes him up and he slowly drifts out of the fog only morphine can bring and yawns. It catches the rooms attention, as it goes silent almost instantly, and he slowly opens his eyes.

The lights on full blast and he winces when it sends a bolt of lightning through his head and down his spine. The lights are dimmed just barely and he takes an extra minute or two to adjust his eyes to the light.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Shiro. He sounds tired and morose and that tone of voice would usually send Keith on a guilt trip to last a life time.

“Hi, Shiro,” he replies. His voice is raspy and breaks a bit. Shiro is sitting on the edge of his bed on his left side and he grabs a cup seemingly from thin air and tilts it to his lips. He drinks greedily before lying back down. “I’m going to raise the bed up a bit, okay, so you can sit up.” Shiro leans down and then he’s feeling the bed lift, his body bend and it’s not unpleasant but it doesn’t feel good either.

“How are you feeling?” Mrs. McClain asks. She’s leaning against the wall at the foot of his bed and he’s staring straight at her. He should smile and say he’s fine, but he can’t bring his lips to move like that. So his neutral expression stays and he says he’s fine.

“Keith, you’re not fine. The doctor said you disassociated while you were cutting, that’s why you started… _hacking_ at your arms. You were brought in with mild hypothermia and severe blood loss. You’re not fine,” Shiro says again.

“So I’m not. I haven’t been. But you know that. So why ask?” His voice is emotionless, numb, like the rest of his body. Who cares? He’ll die anyway. The moment they let him out of here. He’ll do it right. No cutting, no meds. He’ll do things the instant way.

“Because we want to know if we can do anything for you,” Lance whispers from his other side. He’s sitting on Keith’s bed too, on the right, hands gripping the bed covers tightly.

“Then you should have asked that instead. And no, there’s nothing you can do.”

The statement sounds a lot more intense and meaningful than he intends. It’s not wrong though.

“You had to have blood, and the only match was Matt and Pidge. They gave a lot of blood,” Hunk says. Keith wasn’t aware that he was here too, standing somewhere in the throngs of the McClain family surrounding him. He nods. It’s a simple fact.

“You know, asshole, you could tell them thank you for saving your life,” Marcus says. He’s angry and for once Keith is angry too. At him.

He looks at him then at Matt and Pidge, both propping each other up against the wall nearest the door. Pidge is looking at him with fearful eyes, pity around the edges. It’s all he can see in Matt’s. He turns back to Marcus.

“You’re right.” He turns to the Holt siblings. “Thank you for saving my life when I didn’t want you to.”

“What the fucks your problem?!” Marcus yells. Mrs. McClain grabs his arm and pulls him back before he can stomp his way over to Keith’s bedside.

Keith’s had enough. Enough of everyone pushing him around, pushing him down.

“A fuck ton. Haven’t you heard? I’m suicidal. I self-harm. I have no fucking clue what I did to deserve abusive fosters but clearly I did something-“

“No you didn’t, Keith,” Shiro interrupts. Keith ignores him.

“You know, Dan was in a happy relationship before I came along. He was living the lime life with his wife and they decide to foster a kid and then all shit broke lose. He got fired, his wife left, he started hitting me.” He’s quiet for a moment, brain foggy as he tries to think of what he wants to say.

“My mother left me with my father when I was little, three or four, and shortly after my father dropped me off at an orphanage stating, and I quote, “my soulmate’s out there and I have to search for her. You’d hinder the process so you’re going to stay here” and then he left too. I was four years old. What the hell does a kid do at that age that his own parents don’t want him?!

“I was sent to live with so many families and no matter how hard I tried to be the kid they wanted me to be, I failed, every time and they sent me back.” He’s breathing raggedly, and tears are blurring his eyesight but it’s a good thing. Because he doesn’t want to see the faces around him. Especially Marcus’s.

“Dan, he kept me. It was horrible but at least he wanted me. He hurt me and made me feel like hurting myself helped but he didn’t return me, and that meant something. So I was good, I did what he asked. I behaved. I made him meals, cleaned the house, got good grades, talked him up to everyone because that’s what he wanted. I took the beatings because at least with him I knew what to expect. Then you came along,” he turns his attention to Shiro who shrinks back from whatever look is on his face.

“You…fuck, I don’t know. You stayed. I thought for sure you’d leave time and time again, as you learned more about me I was sure you’d leave. But you never did. But, but I couldn’t tell you about Dan. I didn’t want you to know. You were good to me, took care of me without me asking. I didn’t know what to do. It hurt more being around you than it was with Dan. I don’t know what to do around you. How much could I say without giving my life, the shit stain it is, away?

“And then you introduced me to Matt, and I thought he’d leave too. But he stayed because you stayed. And then I mead Lance. And that was easy, because I’m used to people hating me. It’s simple, it’s easy, it’s normal. I know how to argue and be mad and hurt. And God, I don’t know how I started to crush on you when all we ever did was fight.

“But it was there. You would smile at some girl walking by and I thought it was pretty. You would walk out of your way to come tease me and I like that it brought me your attention. When we started texting I liked it. I didn’t know it was you but I liked that someone else seemed to care. Then that song…I thought, Lance cares? About me? I don’t know why I was that stupid.”

“Keith-“ Lance.

“But I thought you wouldn’t care that I wasn’t a girl you’d just care that your soulmate was there. But you didn’t. And I was stupid for carving into my skin. I thought about burning it so it wasn’t words.” He looks at Lance, can only make out the absolute fear on his face and the tears starting to drip off his chin. He feels his own tears on his cheeks. They’re cold.

“And then I was with your family. And I just didn’t want to mess it up. But everyone kept arguing and…” a cold realization washes over him. He shifts to sit up straight and turns his attention on Marcus who looks shocked and warry. “She said I could leave if I wanted to. Go back into the system for the last few months. I’m going to.”

Shiro shakes his head. “Keith, I don’t think going into the system again is good for you. You should stay-“

“No, I can’t. I’m not going to watch another family fall apart because of me. I’m sick of hearing things I already know.” He laughs. Because it’s funny now that he thinks about it. “You know, Marcus, we do come with receipts. A little piece of paper that says you can return the kid at anytime without care of how it effects the child you kept telling you’d take care of. I was returned six times, total. And I told Lance the same thing you told me. That just because we’re ‘soulmates’ doesn’t mean he gets to change how he’s always treated me. I didn’t want that either.”

Mrs. McClain steps forward then, hands clenching at her sides. She’s angry and Keith flinches back from it. He just insulted her baby boys and he wouldn’t be surprised if she hit him. Everyone deserves to.

“I’m going into the system, and I’m going to ask them to put me in another state. I’ll claim it’s because I want to be far away from Dan and they’ll do it because of my past. And you won’t have to deal with me anymore.” _And you won’t be near me when I try again. And succeed._

“No. I…Can I talk to you alone?” Lance’s voice trembles and Keith doesn’t care what he has to say. But if getting everything off his chest will make him feel better than fine. The least Keith can do before he offs himself for good is let everyone vent about him to his face. He nods and one by one everyone files out. He avoids making eye contact with any of them. They’ll get their chance.

Once it’s just him and Lance in the room he turns his attention on his face, on the chocolate skin and the tear tracks, the tight-lipped smile and pinched eyes. He’s quiet as he waits for Lance to say something. Tension starts to build in his spine and his arms are aching from the morphine wearing off. He’s not in the mood to be cursed out but he’s prepared for it nonetheless.

“I don’t hate you. I never hated you,” Lance says. Keith scoffs. He isn’t stupid, and he finds it a little rude that Lance thinks he is. Lance McClain not hating the guy he claimed to hate for years? Bullshit.

“Don’t lie to my face, Lance. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude?”

“I mean it, Keith. I was…am jealous. I’m jealous of how good at everything you are. I was jealous that you always seemed to get better grades and I know now that it’s because you studied your ass off for it but I didn’t know then, so I hated that you seemed to be able to get them easily. I was jealous, and it wasn’t right that I took it out on you.

“I was also angry because you passed Iverson’s class with flying colors and when I got into his astronomy class he…I fucked up when I declared that I was better than you. I really fucked up. He started comparing us in everyway and saying how I could never be that good. That your scores could get you a scholarship and mine would flunk me out of any program. Shit like that. And I started to resent you for it.” His voice cuts off and Keith feels the tale tell sign of hiccups. Lance is crying again.

“Please don’t go. Don’t leave us. We can do better.”

“Your family isn’t the problem, Lance,” he says.

“You are not a problem. Circumstances put you in bad houses with already crumbling families.” Lance places a hand on Keith’s wrapped arm and locks his eyes on the bed. Keith stares at his face still, feeling raw and open in ways he hasn’t before. It’s a weird experience.

“It’s better for everyone if I just leave. Marcus thinks so too,” he says.

“I don’t give a flying squirrels nuts what Marcus wants! You deserve good things and…I want you stay.” His hand is gentle and warm where he’s holding his arm and Keith wants nothing more than for it to stay there forever.

If he stays he’ll have to try. He can’t do shit like this again; fail or succeed he’d be doing harm to people that care about him. While he’s still on the fence about Lance’s true feelings about him, he knows Shiro and Matt care and their faces told him that he can’t do this again. He’ll have to go to a therapist, talk about his issues. He’ll have to get rid of his knife and sharp objects and he’ll have to _try_.

“I’ll need you to help me,” he whispers. Keith wants to take the words back the moment they leave his mouth. He can’t put that much pressure on Lance, it isn’t fair.

“I will. Anything, you name it,” he replies anxiously.

Against his better judgment, Keith says, “I’ll need you hide things, and keep an eye on me. I’ll try to come to you when the feelings get bad enough and you’ll have to talk me into going to therapy because I’ll talk myself out of it. I’ll fight you and your family at every turn and I’ll let them talk about me and I won’t fight back when I’m off this morphine and I’ll be scared and-“

He’s cut off by the pair of arms that wrap around him, careful of the tubes that stick out of his arm and the needle still embedded in the crook of his elbow. The arms feel warm and caring and spring tears behind his eyes. Keith had thought he couldn’t possibly cry anymore but like everything else in his life he’s wrong.

“Anything. Just don’t leave.”

He nods because he can’t trust his voice anymore. They sit there for a few too-short minutes before Lance backs up and sets his hands in his lap. He smiles at Keith, a warm smile that he’s never seen before. It’s not as wide as the ones where he’s laughing at a joke or with his friends. Not as crooked as the seductive ones he sends when he’s flirting. Not as small as the fond ones he sends to people who aren’t looking at him. It’s somewhere in between and Keith stupidly hopes it’s a personal smile meant only for him.

“Lance…” He bites his bottom lip and they lock eyes. He doesn’t know if this is overstepping a line or if it’s sending the wrong signals but he kind of wants to push his luck right now. “Will you lie down with me?”

Lance’s eyes grow wide but before Keith can retract his statement, make high on medication excuses for the things he’s saying, Lance is nodding and circling the bed. “I’ll get in on this side, away from your pin cushion arm.”

He lies down on top of the blanket facing Keith, as large a space between them as the twin sized medical bed will allow. Keith wants to push his luck just a little farther. He’s had a day full of firsts. First time telling anyone about his life before foster. First time asking for help. First time swearing that much. He wants just one more.

“Lift up your arm,” he says a little drowsily. Lance looks a little confused but lifts up his left arm nonetheless. There’s an apology on the tip of his lips, Keith can tell, but he silences it by swiftly shifting under Lance’s raised arm and curling into the boy’s chest. He hears spluttering from Lance but then it’s quiet and then the arm is being draped over his lower ribs, curling around him and tucking just the tips of his fingers underneath Keith’s side.

He feels really warm.

“Is this okay?” Lance sounds unsure, insecure, and Keith nods his head against his chest. He’s tired, morphine still barely there, dragging down his conscious and numbing his senses. If only it would numb the now stinging in his arm where he’s lying on it. His right arm is stretched straight over Lance’s side to keep from upsetting the needle and the wires. It’s uncomfortable but the warmth outweighs the pain.

“Thank you,” he says lazily. Lance huffs out a breathy laugh, the air blowing through Keith’s hair. His breath smells kind of bad but Keith can’t complain. His probably smells worse.

“I’m scared,” Keith admits.

“About what?”

“Living…it’s scary to live when you’re ready to die.”

“Living is scary for everyone who doesn’t have their life together. Me included. But we’ll get through this.”

“How are you good at this?” he asks. Lance shifts just a little bit, placing his arm under Keith’s head and curling tighter around him. The blanket is separating them just a bit and Keith wishes he’d lifted the blanket for Lance to crawl under because he’d like to feel Lance’s skin against his.

“I don’t know. I’m winging it. Glad it’s working,” he says. Keith laughs, quietly and mostly to himself but he can feel the inhale from Lance’s form and the quick exhale of a semi-laugh.

“Your better than me at this, if it’s any consolation.”

“Thanks, Mullet, but it’s kind of not,” he replies.

“If I cut my hair a bit would you stop calling me that?” He’s not annoyed by the nickname but he’s curious. The style isn’t really a ‘mullet’ perse, it’s just kind of long all over what a bit less in the front so it’s not in his eyes all the time.

“Does it bother you that I call you that?” He asks carefully. Keith shakes his head. “Then no. I won’t even if you shaved your head because I know. I know, you started as a mullet.” They both laugh and then the room is silent with just their breaths as noise. It’s quiet and gentle and warm and Keith can feel himself nodding off. He fights it. This is the first time he’s had a nice conversation with Lance and he doesn’t want it to end because he falls asleep.

“Hey, why don’t you sleep for a few more hours, let that morphine work its magic?”

“I-“ he yawns. “-like this. You’re being nice and I don’t want to go back to the way we used to be. What if when I wake up this was all a dream by the meds and you still hate me?”

“Never hated you, remember?”

“Yeah, but what if you do?”

“I won’t. If it makes you feel better, I’ll be right here, wrapped around you, when you wake up. Okay?” He squeezes his arm around Keith gently, a reminder of its place, and he smiles into Lance’s chest. He likes this.

Keith buries his face into Lance’s shirt and inhales. It smells like the ocean and fabric softener as well as sweat and Lance’s specific body odor. It’s not a bad mix. “Will you do me one favor?”

Lance seems to have nearly dozed off himself when Keith pops the question. He breathes in deeply to sort of wake himself up a bit and nods, chin tapping the top of his head. “Yeah, what is it?”

“When you go home, burn this shirt,” he says.

Lance scoffs. “Excuse you, this happens to be a great shirt, one of my favorites in fact.” His voice is mocking but Keith feels bad despite that.

“I’m sorry I got blood all over it. You’ll think about this every time you wear it. I’ll buy you a new one,” he says. He tugs his left hand a little closer to his chest and away from Lance’s.

“Oh. No, I…I’ll trash it. It’s fine. I don’t think even mama could get all this blood out. Don’t worry about it.” Lance rubs his chin in Keith’s hair, a comforting gesture that pulls some of the tension out of his body. He smiles.

“Okay. Good night, Lance,” he says drowsily.  Lance says it back and then he’s fading out and everything is blurry around the edges. He hopes when he wakes up nothing changes, that Lance will still be this nice and caring, that Shiro and Matt will still like him, that he won’t feel like death is the only out.

* * *

Mrs. McClain has been sitting outside of Keith’s room with concerned family and friends for nearing forty-five minutes now. There hasn’t been any yelling and the eerie quiet unsettles her. She only hopes that Lance was able to talk some sense into Keith.

As the hour ticks around and it’s five minutes after 2 a.m. that she decides to peek in on them. The door squeaks on old hinges and she worries it’ll interrupt whatever silence the two have settled into. She needn’t of worried. Her son and his soulmate are curled around each other adorably, sleeping quietly. Lance is snoring just a big but Keith looks so peaceful in his sleep, the snoring completely ignored. His legs are wrapped between Lances, left hand tucked between their bodies, right arm slung straight over Lance to prevent the disruption of the IV. Really it’s quiet adorable and she has to take a picture to remember the moment.

She doesn’t hear the footsteps that accompany the group coming up behind her.

“Aw, that’s cute.” Pidge, toned down and tired from blood loss and the odd hour, says. She isn’t as hyperactive as she usually is but she pulls out her phone nonetheless and snaps no less than twenty photos from different angles of the pair. Matt takes a few as well.

Shiro and her husband each have fond smiles on their faces. Maria grips her mother’s arm and smiles from ear to ear. They have bets. From the sight before them Desmona and Carla will be owing them money quite soon.

“I’m heading back,” Marcus nearly sneers. Heather knows she’ll have to confront her son about his behavior, his lack of care and tact, but tonight has been long and she’s exhausted. She huddles the remaining people from the room and into their respective cars, telling them to meet later today for breakfast.

The children decide to skip school tomorrow and for once she allows it without a fuss. She understands the need for family to come first and while Keith is in the hospital she’s sure Lance won’t be leaving for school. She’ll call tomorrow to inform them of what’s happened.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well???? I know, great right? So, as stated this is an okay end on it's own. Kind of not but I'm betting on you guys wanting more so prove me right and let me know. I've got some fluff lined up and some Marcus redemption...might I bribe you also with friendly-kid Neo? Or...Halloween triggers? Thanksgiving Fluff? Christmas Abuelita????? (Heads up Marcus is a lot like her if you catch my drift...


	7. I Feel Like I'm Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight Marcus redemption???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've apparently suffered depression and anxiety for years now and didn't recognize the signs. I went to consult a doctor yesterday. Which is why I haven't posted anything for a while. I will be taking pills for it but they will have bad side-effects for the first two weeks and I really wanted to give you guys something before I go off grid again so I cranked this out. The ending is kind of shitty but I promise more will come, though how long that'll take I don't know.

He’s been cooped up in this room for nearly two weeks when he makes mistake number one. Note to future suicide failures, don’t snag a pen and try to open your wounds. It makes people sad. Lance’s tears, combined with the snot that had freely run down his face before his mother had shoved a tissue under his nose was not pleasant. Shiro’s disapproving, guilty, look didn’t help ease the newly acquired tension in his chest.

Mistake number two comes four days later when he makes a self-depreciating joke that isn’t really a joke. Who knew when you joked about killing yourself after trying to kill yourself, people get upset. Turns out it’s not a healthy mindset and it makes doctors question release dates. His gets pushed back another six days.

Mistake number three comes the night he’s released. Shiro hugs him too tightly before ruffling his hair and says goodbye. There’s still a worried gleam in his eye that twists Keith’s stomach unpleasantly. Matt smiles and punches him lightly in the shoulder, so softly it’s borderline awkward. Pidge and Hunk smile and wave as Lance helps him inside.

The house looks messier than he remembers, coats thrown on the back of the sofa and shoes haphazardly strewn about the entryway. There’s a few used dishes setting on the dinning table and more in the sink. Crumbs and open jam jars lay on the counter and a partially eaten pop tart sets on the stove.

They’re so busy making sure he doesn’t kill himself they don’t have time to clean their own house. The pressure in his stomach increases, twisting and turning and flipping over itself. He feels sick. God, if he pukes now he really will kill himself.

“Keith?”

He jerks his head up, focusing in on Lance who looks a little worried, which has been his permanent expression since he ran out the door weeks ago. Keith knows because he’s seen Lance every day, for multiple hours and all night, every night, because he was put on 24/7 watch and Lance was nothing if not stubborn about being the one to stay with Keith, who didn’t actually mind. Nights spent with Lance in his bed were the best nights he’s had in years. Warm and quiet and comfortable; Lance made him feel safe and in control.

“Keith?”

Oh yeah, Lance. “What?”

“You okay, man?”

_No._

“Yeah, just spacey,” he says. It’s not a lie. Focusing has been a difficult task since leaving the hospital. He was told it would be due to the new stimuli after weeks of dumb cartoons and overdramatized news interspaced between half-baked conspiracy theories.

“Okay, you want something to eat or a shower?” Lance asks him. Yes, to both. He’s ready for a long hot shower, water bordering on hot enough to melt his skin, and none hospital grade food. Stuff tasted like flavorless goo and he’s ready for something sustainable.

“Yeah, I’m uh, kind of hungry. But a shower sounds great too. I still feel…icky from laying in bed for weeks.” He runs a hand through far too greasy hair and grimaces when his fingers get stuck. He’s so gross. And Lance has been cuddling up to him every night? Who fucking bribed him and with what?

“Why don’t you go take a shower and get yourself cleaned up and I’ll start dinner. Does pork chops sound good to you?” Mrs. McClain asks. She’s all smiles and fake cheeriness. Keith appreciates the effort to make the situation a little bit brighter, even if it’s a fake, fluorescent sort of light, but it’s dim at best and her smile is nearly as transparent as glass. She’s just as stressed as the rest of her family and he’s to blame.

_Course it’s your fault._

“Yes, thank you,” he says. If he trips over his own damn feet in his attempt to flee the room at least everyone gets to see it.

* * *

He’s tired, hungry, and emotionally drained. The last three or so weeks have been a roller coaster of feelings but he’s ping ponged mostly between worry to guilty to angry and back again. Exhaustion has settled so deeply in his bones that despite the quite restful sleep he’s had next to Keith every night, Lance feels like he could settle into a nice coma.

He knows he won’t be sleeping for a while now, though. Now, Keith is in a place with a lot less supervision and a lot more sharp objects. While they’d done a quite thorough sweep of the house to rid it of most of the more dangerous objects, some knives and scissors had to stay, along with forks and other such sharp objects. Lance knows it’s strictly mental, but he swears he can physically feel the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders to keep Keith alive and well.

Lance sighs as he flops down on the stool at the bar, eyes trained on his mother as she hums and cooks. The song is familiar and he can nearly hear the words forming in the back of his mind. He smiles at her and hums along.

 _Well ya know how when you’re young_  
_There’s such a distance between you_  
 _and your family_  
 _You just can’t see things from the same_  
 _point of view_

Lance’s hums turn to words and he’s quickly picking up volume until he’s singing louder than the sound of sizzling from the pan and his mama’s humming. He closes his eyes as he sings, words coming to mind easily as he’s heard this song so often. It’s one of his mama’s favorites, one she sang to all her kids. While it’s not the happiest of songs it meant something to her and that made it mean something for them too.

 _There was a lot of hard livin’ and some_  
_stone cold women on the east cost_  
 _And I saw my papa turn away when I_  
 _needed him the most_

Lance is vaguely aware of his siblings standing around them, his mother making the tune while he belts out the words the best he can. It’s melodic and comforting, a reminder of simpler times. He feels the uneasiness and tension dissipate the slightest bit, almost like a swift breath of air between smoke clouds, the fiery debris being blown in the opposite direction for just a second, taking with it the uncomfortable heat. And while they may be waiting for the burning building to crash down around them as the fire weakens the beams, they take solace in the time where things are tranquil; the calm before the storm.

As the song crescendo’s Lance sings louder, eyes clenching shut as he focuses on the tune, the sound, the feelings that belong with the words. He hears something like a gasp from somewhere behind him but he’s too far into the performance to take a glance at who made it. The words are tumbling out quicker, louder, stronger, and he stands from the stool. He hears Marcus join with some acapella, his sisters joining seconds later. It’s a family affair now, one they’ve done millions of times before.

Lips curl into a smile as the song calms down, words just as heartfelt and deep. His back is still facing most of the room and his eyes still closed.

 _But I just hope when I grow up_  
_to have my own kids_  
 _I’ll love them all I can_  
 _and let ‘em make their own minds_  
 _Now you know how a mother can hold_  
 _the son through understanding_  
 _And my father he once held me close by_  
 _crying_  
 _Whoa, and my mama’s love it don’t ever_  
 _leave me standing_  
 _And papa’s love it just leaves me smiling_  
 _Whoa, and my mama she’s a rainbow_

Lance opens his eyes as he reaches the end of the song. The first thing he sees is his mama’s eyes, wet around the edges and so sad looking it freezes the remaining words in his throat. She’s looking at something over his shoulder. Somehow, he already knows what he’ll see.

Keith.

Keith crying, to be more specific. Wet eyes, trembling lips, shoulders shaking. Lance moves to take a step forward, but Keith takes two quick, stumbling steps back before spinning on his heel and taking off up the stairs. That responsibility, that large weight suddenly feels a lot greater. It balances on his shoulders, forcing them down and nearly buckling his knees.

He sighs. Migraines suck and he’s got the beginnings of one starting just over his right eye. As he’s making his way passed his family a hand grips his shoulder. It’s gentle yet firm and he would assume it belongs to his father, but he locks eyes with Marcus instead.

“Let me.”

“Like hell, I’ve got this.” Lance replies. He shoves passed Marcus but the hand on his arm drags him back. He’s getting rightfully frustrated and if he doesn’t let Lance go in the next seven seconds he might punch his brother in the face. Of course, he’s under no illusions that Marcus won’t punch back or that he won’t punch harder but he’s still thinking about it.

“Listen, Lance, I know I’ve been a douchebag, but I’d like to talk to him. And I promise, I’ll be on my best behavior.” Marcus looks chagrin though he smiles and sets his hand on Lance’s shoulder. It’s such a brotherly move, one he’s used to so often receiving after failing to outdo Keith. It’s so comforting he nods.

“Fine. Ten minutes and then I’m storming in and if he’s still crying or upset in any way-“

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’ll be nice.”

* * *

He knocks on the door softly, hoping not to scare Keith. He can hear quiet sniffles through the door, along with hiccuping gasps. When he doesn’t receive an answer, Marcus knocks a little louder, a little more insistent.

“Keith, open up. Let’s talk.”

“I really don’t want to talk to you,” he replies. Like a petulant child.

“I already promised Lance that I’d play nice. There’s things we need to talk about and I’m not going to yell it through a door.” Marcus knocks again, just to add effect, and waits. Keith’s still hiccupping and gasping in air and after a minute of near silence he answers.

“Look, I’ll be fine. You don’t have to force yourself to be up here. Tell Mrs. McClain that we talked, and I wanted to be alone for a bit. Done,” he says. Marcus is nearing his last straw with this kid. _Imagine this is Lance. Treat him like another Lance._ He repeats the mantra over and over, letting the words soothe his growing annoyance.

“I don’t want to do that. I want to talk with you. So, could you please open the door?”

Miraculously, the door opens and a red-eyed Keith stands slumped in the doorway. Frankly, he looks awful. Though, most kids do when they cry. They look worse when you know the backstory, the reasons for the tears and Marcus supposes Keith’s blotchy eyes and pitiful whimpers stems from his unique family situation. This lonely kid could have been happy, smiling and laughing with a real family right this second if he hadn’t pushed the kid as far as he could bend.

Thorny vines of guilt knot around his organs and he bites at the inside of his cheek to keep his composure.

“What? If you’re here to make yourself feel better could you make it quick?” He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand and it doesn’t escape Marcus’s eye the way his lip quivers. He’s going to start crying harder any second and the last thing he wants is watch him break down. Marcus wonders how far he can push this. Is he allowed to touch Keith’s shoulder, pull him into a hug, comfort him?

“I’m not. I came to apologize. Can I come in?” There’s a long pause where Keith’s clearly contemplating the pros and cons of allowing Marcus in before ultimately moving back into the room leaving the door open in invitation. Marcus takes quiet steps inside and shuts the door gently. “Okay, talk to me,” he says.

“Why? Just say what you came to say and get out,” Keith says vehemently. So, he’s hostile and clearly doesn’t feel safe. He’s not in a safe environment as far as he’s concerned and maybe he feels personally attacked. Marcus coming inside his only space in the entire house while he feels vulnerable certainly isn’t helping to make the kid relax.

“I’m sorry. I let my anger about the soulmate situation between you and Lance blind me to the more important matters. You. Lance asked me if it was him in your situation would I treat him like this.” Marcus stops as he imagines it again. Thinks about Lance being starved and hit and mentally abused so bad he thinks he’s useless.

“And?”

“And the answer is no. I don’t need to place Lance in your situation. I can see that what I did…If you’d died I would have gone to jail for murder, it’s that serious.”

“Figures, this is all about you.” His whisper is barely audible, but Marcus hears him anyway.

“No. My point is, that what I did and said was that serious. I swear I’m not a jackass. That’s not who I am, or who my mother raised, and I sincerely apologize for my actions up till now. You don’t have to forgive me, but I wanted to make it clear that I am sorry.” He sighs when he’s finished, the thorns easing their vice like grip. “So, if you’d like to talk about anything, I’m here.”

“Why the fuck would I want to talk to you? You wouldn’t understand,” Keith replies. The sniffles and tears are gone, replaced by tired anger. Like he’s mad but also too emotionally drained to be so.

“So, make me. Make me understand how bad it was for you, how fucked up everything’s made you.”

* * *

He needs Lance. He’s three seconds away from diving for a god damn coat hanger to slash at his wrists since everything else has apparently been taken away. Marcus is pushing his buttons again. He knows he’s being bratty, but in his defense his heart was just ripped out of his chest again for more reasons then one and now he’s forced into a room, a corner, with Marcus who’s pressuring him to talk about his life.

Fuck.

He closes his eyes and tries to take deep breaths. He promised Lance. No cutting, no self-harm. He’d try. Shit, but Lance said he’d been there every step of the way. He needs Lance. He needs…what does he need? Air. He needs air.

Keith stumbles his way to the window, Marcus on his heels with arms outstretched like he’d catch Keith if he fell. Right, like he wouldn’t take the opportunity to let Keith fall on his face. The window sticks a bit but eventually Marcus is sick of Keith attempting and failing to open it and forces the window open himself. Keith would say thanks but he’s busy contemplating throwing himself out of it instead.

There’s vague whimpering and choked inhales and he’s on the verge of passing out. He’s hyperventilating. Why? Why is he this fucked up? Why can’t he be normal? No one’s going to want him, he’ll be stuck in the orphanage forever. Unless he does something about it. He could. He could run away, live in the desert for the rest of his life. It’s not like a miracle will happen and he’ll suddenly get the perfect family who loves and cares about him. It’d be better if he wasn’t here. The other kids say so too. And Martha. Martha refuses to waste their small food supply on him. She says they don’t have the resources to feed every mouth every day and he’s the most undeserving.

He isn’t sure how he ends up on the floor with too tight fistfuls of his hair or when Marcus arrived and started yelling something in his face and then towards the door but that’s where they’re at now. He yanks a little bit harder and squeezes his eyes shut as tears leak out. His lungs feel like they’ve been set on fire and his chest feels too tight.

He hears a door slam open, a lot of very angry yelling which frankly, scares the living shit out of him, and when he cracks an eye open it’s just in time to see Lance’s fist connect with Marcus’s face, sending him falling to the floor on his ass as Lance rushes to his side.

Lance.

It’s like a cold shower during a fever. He clings like a koala, fingers causing permanent impressions in the fabric of his shirt, face buried in his chest. He isn’t sure if Lance wraps his arms around him, but he feels warm and safe and still panicking. His heart is beating so hard in his chest he feels it ricochet through Lance. Or maybe that’s Lance’s heartbeat beating equally as fast. Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care. He’s just glad it’s Lance.

* * *

Fear forces him to his knees, arms wrapped around Keith’s shaking form like he’ll be able to hold the vibrating pieces of him together. Keith’s gasping, choking, hiccuping, and everything in between despite his attempts to calm him; shushing the noises and gently rocking back and forth.

He’s never had to deal with panic attacks, has no idea what to do to calm Keith best so he tightens his arms and sets his chin atop Keith’s head and runs a hand through his, surprisingly soft, hair. He murmurs quiet nothings in his ear, about his childhood and meeting his friends. Simple stories that Keith can focus on instead of the rising panic that Lance can see at the edges of his wide eyes.

Eyes that are unfocused and shifting quickly, seeing and reliving things Lance doesn’t even want to know about. He idly wonders if Dan is among the things he’s seeing. Finds he doesn’t particularly care because it’s fake and Keith will eventually snap out of it and Lance will be the only one there. The only one Keith has to face. And it’ll be a great face.

Nearly thirty minutes later, when Keith’s sounds die out and the fingers digging into his shirt seem to be losing their grip and Keith’s head has lolled onto Lance’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around Keith as he sits nearly completely in Lance’s lap, Lance asks, “feel better?”

“Sorry…” His voice breaks. Lance threads his fingers through Keith’s hair over and over in comfort. He must be doing something right because Keith nearly melts against him. Its actually quite endearing and Lance bites his lip to keep himself from cooing.

“Nothing to apologize for, man. Marcus was probably being a dick anyway,” he says. Keith shakes his head almost violently.

“No. He said he was sorry. He was nice. I’m the one who…I don’t know why I freaked out. It was stupid.”

Well, Lance highly doubts that. Keith’s been traumatized beyond what anyone could imagine and it’s not right for him to be thinking that about himself. That he’s fucked up? Okay, so he’s a little fucked up but really, it’s not his fault. The fucking system is flawed.

“It’s okay. You’ll be okay.” He holds Keith a little bit tighter, hopes he won’t have to let go any time soon, hopes that Keith will appreciate the effort Lance is putting in to helping him get better. Hopes Marcus won’t beat the living shit out of him in retaliation.


	8. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry? Triggers to toxic thoughts. Song by Meg & Dia. Um, yeah. Maybe Marcus redemption remix??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long but here's another chapter. Sorry for not replying personally to the inbox section but thanks for all the comments and hopes of getting better!

 

He feels the bile climbing his throat and rapidly swallows it back. He hadn’t eaten a lot from his breakfast and what he did manage to eat was strictly to calm Mrs. McClain who had nagged him more than once. He noticed Lance side eyeing him as well when he started pushing the eggs around his plate rather than eating them. He’s glad they had to rush out the door five minutes later.

It’s his first day back at school since the incident and Keith’s nerves are frayed at the edges and it feels like his blood is literally vibrating through his veins. He hadn’t slept well the night before and he can feel it deep in his bones, the lethargy and agitation. He’s not sure he can make it through the entire day of school.

“You okay there, kid?” Marcus asks from the driver’s seat. He’d volunteered to drive them to school today, him and Lance; who had been instantly suspicious. Rather than argue Lance had given in. The bags under Lance’s eyes were telling of the little sleep he must have gotten as well. It’s probably Keith’s fault.

“Yeah, just tired,” he replies after a small pause. He’s more than just tired, he’s exhausted. The panic attack he’d had two days ago still made his hands shake the slightest bit and his lungs still felt too small but Lance would smile at him when he ate, when he talked, when he did anything remotely ‘normal’ like taking a shower without prompting. Keith liked his smiles. They seemed small and sincere, special and almost like they were just for him. He liked them. He wanted to see them more.

“Good luck today, guys. Give me a call if you two need anything, okay?” Marcus says as they pull up to the front of the school. Lance replies but Keith’s too preoccupied tamping down the puke again. He doesn’t want to do this. To face a slew of people who never cared who he was as they gossiped about him and asked him personal questions or God forbid make fun of him. “You sure you can handle this?” Marcus asks him after Lance has left. He’s standing a little ways off, talking to the gang which apparently now involves Shiro and Matt. The group waves at him and he slowly lifts a hand in greeting.

“No. But it’s not like I have a choice.”

Marcus looks over at him, expression something Keith doesn’t have a name for. “Yes, you do. If you don’t think you can manage today, I’ll take you back home.” Keith doesn’t understand why Marcus is being nice to him now.

He wants to take him up on his offer, though. But one look over at his friends dries the words in his mouth. They’re all smiling at him, patiently waiting for him. Shiro leans against the railing of the stairs and beckons him over. Keith shakes his head. “I’ll manage.”

He regrets telling Marcus he’d manage. It’s barely second period when he feels the telling signs of an anxiety attack. The teacher lets him go to the bathroom and he nearly runs the entire way there to keep from being seen. Not like he needed to worry. The halls were equally as empty as the bathroom itself. He runs shaking fingers through his hair, clenches the strands and pulls. His breathing is too fast and he’s aware of the echoes of his gasps off the walls. Keith slides down the wall at his back, face tucked behind his knees.

Why can’t he pull himself together? He’s out of Dan’s house and wasn’t shipped off to some other messed up family until he turned 18 so he shouldn’t be freaking out like this. When did he become so weak?

He pulls harder at his hair, can feel strands breaking and he whines. Fucking whines. God, he’s so fucking pathetic. Crying in the school bathroom because someone mentioned Dan. Specifically that he was such a good guy, always seemed like a nice, caring father.

His eyes start to water and as breathing becomes difficult he digs around in his pockets for his phone. The smooth glass feels weird to his hands as he calls the first person his finger lands on. The dial tone seems to last a while before someone picks up suddenly. Keith isn’t prepared to actually talk.

“Keith? What’s wrong?” The voice whispers. Keith pulls the phone away from his ear to look at the screen which glows to show the name Marcus. He’d fucking dialed Marcus. Of all the contacts in his phone, which weren’t many outside of his friend group and Lance’s family which Lance himself had added, he hit Marcus.

He contemplates hanging up but he still isn’t breathing right and the thought of leaving the bathroom or people entering make him nauseous. His hands are still shaking, barely holding the phone and he can vaguely hear Marcus calling his name a few times in the same whispered tone.

“Sorry, I didn’t…mean to call you,” he replies. His voice is somewhat steady and he congratulates himself on at least that.

“You don’t sound okay. Keith, if somethings wrong just tell me.”

He wonders if he should. _Marcus doesn’t care. He doesn’t have to care to help though. Even Dan helped and you know he didn’t care. Fuck, don’t think about him. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about him. Don’t think about him._

“Keith? Earth to Kogane,” Marcus says a little louder. Keith’s lungs constrict further at the thought of Dan, his shaking becoming worse. He wants to cut. To feel the razor dragging through his skin, the blood dripping down his arms. God, he needs it.

“Help.” It’s the only word he can muster.

“Shit. Okay, I’m on my way. Where exactly are you right now?” Marcus is still whispering, and Keith realizes he’s probably in a lecture right now. He’s making Marcus miss a class because he can’t function like a normal human being.  He keeps creating trouble for the people generously taking him in; feeding him, clothing him, housing him, you name it he’s got it and now he’s making them miss classes because he’s having a panic attack in the boys bathroom at his high school.

It’s too late to go back now. “The bathroom right…at…the back.” It’s evident he isn’t breathing right and he’s sure Marcus has noticed too.

“Okay, I’ll be there in ten. Just, hold tight. Do you want me to stay on the phone?” He’s not whispering anymore.

“No, it’s okay,” he replies. Keith hangs up the phone and non-too gently shoves it back into his pocket. It’s like he can’t help but show the McClain’s the worst of him, the pathetic side of himself. Lance used to think he was worth something, at least worthy of being a rival despite his lack of participation in the rivalry. Now he can’t even dig that old him up. He was always weak, but at least he knew how to hide it.

It feels like he sits in that bathroom, contemplating his worthlessness for hours when the door creaks open slowly and Marcus pokes his head in. “Found you. Come on, I already signed you out with the front office.”

Keith wants to stand up and walk out but his legs feel numb and shaky and he’ll probably wobble if he stands. So, he sits there, staring awkwardly at Marcus who looks more and more irritated as the seconds tick by. He bites at his bottom lip, gnaws at it, and locks his eyes on his shoes.

“Really? You call me for help but you want to stay in this disgusting bathroom?” Marcus sounds exasperated and ready to leave him there, a wretched person who can’t make it past one period in school without a mental breakdown.

He feels tears build at the bottom of his eyes. Squeezing them shut he feels the chill as they fall down his checks and land on his jeans. He can’t see Marcus’s shocked expression or the softer look he sends his way. He feels the warm hand on his shoulder and jerks away from it. Dan hates when he cries. He remembers the ache in his bones after the beating he received for crying.

“I’m sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll stop crying. I—I’ll stop crying,” he whimpers out. Keith harshly scrubs at his eyes with the heel of his hand and sniffles, biting at his lip harder so he has something else to focus on.

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s okay to cry,” Marcus soothes. He tries shushing him, holds his hand out to run it through Keith’s hair but thinks better of it.

Keith shakes his head. “I’m sorry, so sorry. Please, don’t hit me. I’m sorry.” The whine slips out as he curls further into the wall, trying to get away from Dan above him.

“Keith, you need to open your eyes. Look at me, please.”

Dan wouldn’t say that. He peeks open one eye and then the other to see tan skin and blue eyes, not quite like Lance’s, not quite as blue as the ocean but maybe like a pretty lake or something. Marcus smiles at him and it’s not as bright as Lance’s but Keith can tell they’re related.

“Let’s just go,” Keith says, forcing his legs to support him. He totters to the side but steadies himself quickly. The last thing he needs is to fall on his face. He can see Marcus beside him, arms out ready to catch him, eyebrows pinched, and lips deeply set in a frown. Whatever. Keith didn’t need the brother of his crush and ‘savior’ to worry about him and his messed up mental state, thank you.

He knows he’s still shaking, can feel the unsteadiness in his limbs like his body is land rocked by an earthquake and his breathing is still irregular, large breathes in and nearly nothing out. He can barely make out the sinks and mirrors in front of him from the many black dots in his vision. They kind of look navy blue more than black. Keith tries focusing on the dots, to really see what color they are.

“Hey, don’t---” Marcus’s voice drifts off and then he’s out.

* * *

He drives the car as smoothly as he can, swerving to miss pot holes and bumps, slowing down for stop lights early so the car doesn’t jerk. His brother’s soulmate sleeps in the passenger seat of his Hyundai and he has no idea where he’s going at first. He thinks about taking Keith back home, to the empty house that lacks familiarity to the kid, that’s quiet in a desolate way. Nope, not there. He thinks about taking him to a shop to get ice cream but that’s a popular place even during school hours and he knows there will be a crowd, even if it’s a small one. He needs a place void of people but also comfortable.

An idea pops into his head and he smiles over at the sleeping teen while making a soft though illegal U-turn and heading to the out skirts of town. He knows the perfect place.

It’s not necessarily a short drive out but Keith’s asleep and he’s got the radio lowly playing one of his favorite audio books so he’s content for the drive. The buildings give way to trees that give way to open land, fields of both weeds and flowers decorate the landscape.

It’s almost the exact moment that Marcus cuts the engine that Keith wakes up. Marcus would almost call him cute, the way he uses the back of his hand to gently wipe at his eyes, the way he yawns and all that comes out is a small sound of content. He’s not sure what to do though, now that he’s got Keith out here. He wouldn’t say he’s ever been great at talking to people, women especially, but this kid and his background make holding a conversation nearly impossible. He’s afraid to say the wrong thing, to end up back at square one almost bullying the kid to suicide. He’s surprised his mama didn’t slap the bejesus out of him for that.

“Where are we?” Keith asks drowsily. He sits up straight and takes in their surroundings, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Are you going to kill me?”

“What? N-no?”

“Why was that a question?”

Marcus sighs through his nose and shakes his head in both found amusement and mild annoyance. “I brought you out here because it was my favorite spot when I had a lot of stuff on my mind. Not a lot of people visit since there’s nothing really here.”

The explanation seems to tide Keith over and he resumes looking out the window. Marcus debates what to say next. All he can think of is rapid fire questions about the boy that ended up in their house because of ‘fates’ soulmate bullshitery. Like hell this kid is Lance’s soulmate. Abused or not he’s just not a compatible match for his brother.

“I can see the questions forming on the tip of your tongue. What is it?” Keith’s looking expectantly at him and Marcus supposes it’s as good a time as any to spill his guts.

“Why did you try to approach Lance? After the talent show, I mean. What were you hoping to gain?” The words come out a little harsher than he intended but there’s no taking them back now, so he turns his full attention to Keith and waits. He really doesn’t expect an answer.

“I don’t know. The song was just…he made it sound like he would accept whoever was his soulmate. I thought, maybe he’d be nicer to me if he knew. Maybe he deserves to know who’s marking up his skin.” There’s a pause as Keith thinks over his words, something Marcus could learn a thing or two about. “He was practically begging to know who it was.”

When Marcus is sure that no more information is forthcoming he askes his next question. “Why did you mark words into your arm. You crossed them off with more cuts but it’s still readable. ‘You Lied.’ Why did you write that? Clearly it was a message to Lance.”

“I was angry. I’d talked myself into telling him, admitting that I was the weak bastard that kept marking his skin both on accident and purpose and he acted like I was nothing but dirt under his shoe. After that song he pushed me away because he was fixated on a girl that wasn’t real. I was angry, and it was stupid, _I_ was stupid.” Keith curls more into the door, away from Marcus as he talks.

Marcus should have thought about his next words, revising them or just not saying them at all. Either would have been an excellent choice but he decides instead to let his anger touch the surface. Not boil over, just hit that meniscus, that almost too far point. And then he knocks the whole beaker over with careless and clumsy words.

“What do you plan to do now? You know, now that you have Lance nearly wrapped around your finger? Will you date him, make him miserable taking care of you? Will you date him for the money? Let him pay all your bills? Are you going to use that soulmate crap to keep him at your beck and call? You know, he doesn’t deserve---”

“STOP IT!” Keith cuts him off with a yell, hands fisted in his lap, knuckles whiter than the pale ivory of his skin. He’s somewhat shaking, tiny movements of his body; his eyes clenched shut and mouth a tight line. Marcus knows he’s fucked up now.

“Just…please, stop it.” Keith tilts his head down, hiding his eyes with his bangs but Marcus can see the tears as they roll down his cheeks, though he doesn’t need to physically see them when he can hear them in the boys voice. “I don’t want him as my soulmate either, I didn’t pick this! He deserves a girl that can cook for him and challenge him and love him and who isn’t fucked up like me. You think I want to tie him down? To this?” He gestures to himself. “He’s caring, and smart and the only reason he knew my name is because he hated me. Hates me. Whatever. He deserves better than me and yes, I regret not just walking away and letting him think his soulmate ignored him. It probably would have been less disappointing for him to have never met his soulmate instead of meeting me.

“All I did was pull your family into things and cause fights and worry and…” Keith hiccups and violently swipes at the tears on his face. “And he tried to help me. He called the cops for me because I’m too pathetic to save myself. Dan was right, I should have just killed myself. It’d be better if I had. Then you and your amazing family wouldn’t have had to deal with me. You wouldn’t have wasted so much money for nothing. God, and I let a little kid see so much blood. I got it all over her shirt. And Lances favorite…I can’t testify against Dan. If…if I just lie, he won’t go to jail and I can…I can live with him again. It’s where I belong---”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Keith flinches at the words, head shooting up and a glare on his face. “No, it’s my turn to ask you questions. What the fuck is your problem with me? I get it, I’m pathetic and useless and so far beneath your brother that I’m not even worthy of the dirt he fucking walks on, but I didn’t make us soulmates and I certainly never asked him to bother with me. He could have ignored everything about me and just met some cute girl. He could have left me alone that night, but he didn’t. He could have—fuck I don’t know, but he could have done anything else and left me the hell alone. This is worse than Dan! I knew what to expect there, we had a routine and it worked for a while, days—months at a time. This is worse. I hate this. Everyone tries to be so nice and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.” There’s a rasp to his voice now, a hiccuping breath every so often.

Marcus wants to wrap the boy up in a blanket, to shelter him by hiding him away from anything else in the world that could hurt him worse, including himself. “I’m sorry I—”

“Just…Just take me back. School will be out soon.” Keith can’t get any closer to the door but he sure as hell tries. Marcus wants to argue, to talk to Keith more, to come to some sort of understanding but he worries about pushing Keith any further. He’s making things worse nearly every time he opens his mouth. He reaches out a hand to place on Keith’s shoulder but thinks better of it and leave his hand hanging in the air.

“Look, I know I’m talking like I’m putting all the blame on you, but I’m not trying to. I’m sorry. And even if you don’t forgive me, please believe me when I say it wouldn’t be better if you were dead.”

“Just start the car and take me back,” he demands. Marcus sighs but starts the engine and makes the long, silent, and very awkward trip back.


	9. I Think I'm In Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance...Naked...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait, you guys are amazingly patient. For those who care, my life has been crazy. We are planning to move states, my job has me working 12's more often than not, my three dogs are extremely needy (one keeps setting her head on my arms while I'm trying to type), I recently took a week long trip to Missouri, where my mother was born, a bug bit me 37 times on the body and I finally found it and killed it but no medicine was helping (For anyone's curiousness the Benadryl tablets help a lot more than the rub on stuff. Took three days for the bites to heal.), and then I got sick from my niece. SO...ugh. I actually kind of hate the way this chapter is but I had to get you guys something, sorry it's only like, 3000 words but I wanted this scene in the fic and figured this was a good time. Plus, you guys enjoy some niceness.

His parents are out, working late and probably sleeping in their respective offices as they sometimes do. His sisters are at some school event, an all-female sleep over in the gymnasium. That just leaves the boys at home alone.

 Dinner, though quiet and somewhat awkward, was made better by his whole family being present but now that it’s just them, Lance isn’t sure what to do.

Keith had retired quickly to the bedroom, most likely to escape the thick tension that still slightly lingers between him and Marcus. Neo had stolen Marcus quickly after to play video games with him and Lance can’t decide what to do with himself. Does he join Keith in the bedroom and try to sleep? Does he spend some good old quality time with his brothers? Well, he’s still a little bit mad at Marcus and Neo for their previous treatment of Keith so…

Keith it is. He knows he won’t be able to actually sleep but he’ll give it his best shot anyway. Even if he just stares at the ceiling, it’s better than pretending he isn’t upset with Marcus right now.

Keith is inside, already showered and under the covers, facing the wall and away from the rest of the room. Lance quickly dresses and forgoes a shower, climbing into his bed quietly and flicking off the light.

In the silence he listens to Keith’s breathing, soft and slow. He closes his eyes and counts the breaths, matches his to his soulmates. God, if that isn’t the single weirdest thought. That Keith Kogane is his soulmate, his chosen one and only. That out of all the people on planet earth, something chose this boy to be his forever. And he’d fucked it up the first day they met.

He wonders where his life would be right now if he’d befriended Keith instead. If he hadn’t let petty jealously take a hold of him and squeeze so tight he’d been blinded by it. What if they’d started as friends? If somewhere in their friendship Lance had accidentally hurt himself with Keith nearby and discovered the bond or vice versa. If they’d started dating and Lance was able to get Keith away from that disaster of a human being his foster father is. What if Keith had moved in while they were early lovers? If Lance got to wake up to his face every morning?

It’s a pretty face, sue him. He’d smile and poke at his cheeks and creepily touch his face and trace his lips, thoughts he's had about all his relationships, only this one brings a light heat to his face and he ducks under the covers to hide it. From who he has no idea. God, maybe? The ghost he swears lives in the house to take his shit and hide it from him? He’s still not sure if it’s really a ghost or if it’s Neo.

He’s just drifting off, in the space of not awake and not asleep, when his breaths become off beat to Keith’s, his a tick faster. Lance is instantly alert, sitting up in bed and waiting for something to happen. But in the span of a full minute, nothing does. Keith is still breathing a bit quicker, but he isn’t tossing and turning or groaning so he lies back down and tries to relax again.

This time there’s a small, low pitched whine. It’s enough to jolt Lance straight out of his bed. He’s on his feet and padding quietly over to Keith’s bed before he really realizes what he’s doing. The rooms too dark to really see the other boy even with the hours Lance has had for his eyes to adjust. He’s not sure if Keith’s having a nightmare or not but the next resulting whine causes him to reach out in the dark for Keith’s arm. He’s pretty sure he’s touching the boy’s chest, if the hard, lean muscle he feels is anything to go by. Not what he’s looking for, however nice it is.

He moves his hand up and over his shoulder, grabs his upper arm and gently shakes him. Keith mumbles something that sounds a little bit like, “don’t touch me,” but Lance opts to ignore it. He shakes Keith just a little rougher when he starts whimpering and mumbling more. Definitely a nightmare.

“Keith, wake up, it’s okay,” Lance reassures. It shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does when Keith springs up, hands flying out and clocking Lance right in the cheek. He curses and stumbles away from the bed, lightly glaring at the boy who’d unknowingly decked him. “Dude, the fuck?”

Lance rubs at the sore spot on his face while glaring at Keith. His check is throbbing, and he knows it’ll probably leave a faint bruise that will most likely be mirrored on Keith’s by tomorrow morning. He’s expecting for Keith to grumpily tell him off, maybe bodily shove him off the bed or something, but he isn’t prepared for the quiet apology that falls from his lips instead.

“Sorry,” he says. Lance doesn’t know what to say back.

“It’s...look it’s fine. You weren’t completely awake anyway. Just, go back to sleep.” Lance is about to walk back to his own bed when a hand quickly reaches out to grab his shirt tail. He’s momentarily choked by his own shirt. “Dude!” He squeaks.

“Sorry, sorry…can you-“ he cuts out as a tremor racks his frame. He looks so fragile and small there, like a kid after a nightmare and Lance never thought he’d see Keith look so much like a frightened kid. It’s a troubling sight.

“Can I what?” He asks softly. Lance watches as Keith twists his shirt tail in his hands before apparently realizing what he’s doing and quickly letting go. He’s avoiding eye contact and Lance wonders if he’ll ask him to sleep with him like Neo does sometimes. Would he agree? It’s not like he’s opposed to the idea but he’s also worried it’ll shift their precarious dynamic. He doesn’t want Keith to think he’s using this as a means to forward a relationship or something. He’s not exactly sure how Keith thinks but he doesn’t want anymore misunderstandings.

“Um…it’s stupid, never mind. Sorry, go back to bed,” Keith says. Lance can’t see his face clearly in the darkness but he’s sure there’s a slight blush on his checks. He was totally about to ask Lance to share his bed. Cute.

“No way, what were you going to ask?” He wouldn’t be Lance if he simply let matters go. He’s supposed to be stubborn and persistent.

“I…” there’s a long pause as, presumably, Keith is working up the courage to ask. “Will you sing that song again?”

Color Lance fifty shades of surprised. He wants Lance to sing to him? Like, while he falls asleep…in the dark…intimately. He feels the heat rising on his own face. “Uh, you mean the song from the talent show? Missing You?”

“Yeah,” he replies quietly, voice barely above a whisper. Lance doesn’t have to think very hard about the request. Keith specifically asked him for it, so he’ll do it.

“Sure man, I can do that. Scoot over.”

“What?! I, um, you don’t have to…get in…t-the bed,” Keith stammers. Cute.

“But I’m gunna,” he replies. On, second thought, that sounds kind of creepy. “I just thought it might make you feel a bit better, having someone beside you, but, um, if you don’t want me to I can sing from my own bed. I didn’t mean to sound as creepy as I just did, I promise and-“

“Relax, Lance. It’s okay. I appreciate the offer,” Keith says as he moves over, allotting room for Lance to squeeze onto the bed. There’s a new fire burning in his cheeks but Lance swallows thickly before crawling into the bed next to Keith. The silence that envelopes them is awkward and Lance coughs to clear his throat before humming the beginnings to the song. When it’s time for the lyrics he starts out softly, trying to keep the stillness, the quiet peacefulness around them.

By the time the song is over Keith’s breaths have evened out. Lance contemplates leaving now and heading for his own bed but he’s missed having a body next to his, being able to listen to the sounds of someone else sleeping peacefully, feeling not so alone.

* * *

 

A dull throbbing is what he wakes to. Nightmares always make him a little crankier, a little sorer, the next day and the noise of the McClain house amplifies his overall bitchiness. He rubs at his, probably red, eyes and yawns; stretches out his arms until he hears a very satisfying pop. Keith lays in bed for a while longer listening to the full house below him. It sounds like Mrs. and Mr. McClain are back from work and their’s a shrill shrieking from somewhere further down the hall upstairs so he assumes Lance’s sisters are also back.

As if brought on by the thought of her, Desmona pops her head into the room, forgoing the usual courtesy of knocking, and says, “wake up you two, breakfast is-“ her voice cuts out as a light giggling starts and he wonders what she’s found funny? He opens his eyes and focuses on the ceiling while he wakes up a little more. He’s far too tired to deal with people this morning. He needs coffee first.

Keith grabs ahold of the corner of the blanket next to him and pulls it off, the cold air sending chills down his body where it touches. However, it’s the thing his hand hits that has him spinning around, hair standing on end, as his eyes land on the figure next to him.

Lance. Looking perfectly at peace in _Keith’s_ bed. Like it’s perfectly normal for him to be there, sleeping.

Keith knows he’s a terrible morning person, has heard about it from many, many people before, however that hasn’t changed his personality. So, when he plants a foot to Lance’s side and pushes the boy off the bed, well, the shriek is satisfying. It feeds his soul almost as much as coffee would. A smirk plays at his lips as Lance pushes himself up.

“Dude, the fuck? I got punched last night and now you kick me off the bed? Literally?!” Punched? Keith doesn’t remember….oh. The night before clears in his mind a little more and he’s pretty sure he punched Lance in the face accidentally. Right before he swallowed his pride and asked the boy to sing for him…shit.

He knows he should apologize. He really should. “What are you doing down there?” He asks instead, because of course.

“What am I-you suck dude. You are a terrible sleeping partner.” Lance stands and shakes his head as he heads to the dresser in the corner. He doesn’t sound particularly mad, like Keith would have thought, more like confused and slightly tired.

Now Keith feels a little guilty. It’s technically his fault that Lance hadn’t slept well last night, who knows how long the guy stayed awake. Keith sighs. He really does need to apologize.

* * *

 

Lance steps from the shower soaking wet. He runs fingers through his wet hair as he realizes he’s forgotten to grab a towel from the hallway closet. It’s something he hasn’t done since he was a kid. Though, to be fair, he was very distracted by the sight of early morning Keith; with his hair mused from tossing and turning, eyes red-rimmed from earlier crying and a playful smirk across his very handsome face. God, his heart could not take the sight. Lance had all but fled the room.

Feelings don’t normally occur this face do they? This isn’t what Marcus was talking about right? That his feelings are only happening because of the knowledge that Keith is his soulmate. Lance looks at his reflection in the mirror. Keith has a lot of choices out there and truthfully so does he. He’s dated many girls and it’s purely his fault that they didn’t stick. He was too obsessed with his unknown soulmate. Many girls hadn’t cared who theirs were and Lance can see, though just barely, how someone would rather date whoever they liked rather than wait around and hope that they find their soulmate but Lance just…couldn’t.

The thought of someone, made tailored to fit the places your personality and soul lacked was just…cool. Like, yin and yang. Did Keith fit that for him? He was a bit abrasive and quick to get angry but he lacked the anger to take things to a physical level, much unlike Keith. The dude punched a teacher in middle school. He took things in stride and planned things out where Keith used actions. Lance enjoyed being around people, being an extrovert and all, whereas he’s pretty sure Keith would rather be around open spaces with easy access to a door. He’s not sure if Keith would prefer a few people around or none at all though he leans more toward the later.

He knows they’re close as far as body type goes, though Keith is more lean muscle look while he is a string bean, as Desmona would refer to him. They’re not that far apart in height either, maybe a few inches in Lance’s favor, something he will never let go of. Small victories and all. Keith’s fashion style could use a bit of help but at the same time he makes the ‘Hot Topic Emo’ a good look. How he makes the ‘70’s mullet’ work Lance will never know but he does. Everything about him works. Has since Keith had entered the school. Wow, had Lance been looking at him that long?

Lance glares at his reflection in the mirror. And Marcus thinks he’s never been into guys. Clearly, he’s been into Keith since before he knew about the soulmate thing.

He’s…liked Keith since before…

He’s liked Keith…

He likes Keith…

He likes…

Keith.

“HOLY SHIT!” he shouts. He hears his mama’s voice yelling at him for cursing, or maybe he imagined it, but he scoops up his clothes to cover his body and makes a mad dash for his room.

Now, in hindsight, he would slap himself for what he does next because there is nothing that could possibly come from him rushing to his room, his shared room, with Keith, with absolutely no clothes on. In fact, what does happen, reminds him much of the scene from one of his favorite rom-coms where the girl rushes from the bathroom because a small white dog barks at her and she runs straight into the lead male who’s also undressed, getting ready to get into the shower that he didn’t know was in use.

God is probably laughing his ass off right now.

Lance bursts through the door, clothes hanging precariously in his grip just barely covering his junk, when he trips over something, even future Lance with his new 20/20 vision has no idea what he tripped over, though he’d bet it was his own two feet, and crashed right into Keith. A very naked Keith. A _very_ naked Keith. Lance is literally nose to nose with his soulmate, dicks hanging out and definitely touching though his is a lot harder than Keith’s, and his arms are bracketed around Keith’s head where he’d stopped his fall before completely squashing him.

“Oh. My. GOD!” Keith says as he shoves at Lance’s shoulders. Still in a mind of shock, Lance barely moves back. Keith is naked and under him and this gorgeous boy is his chosen soulmate and they’re living in the same house and Lance slept in the same bed with him and now they’re naked and together. His brain does not compute how this all happened.

“Lance! Keith! Didn’t you hear Des? Breakfast is-“ There’s an awkward silence as Marcus peers in the open door that Lance hadn’t shut. Lance is pretty sure his bare ass is not what his older brother had wanted to see. Also, his naked brother on top of an equally naked man.

“Why are you wet?!” Keith shrieks as he shoves at his shoulders again, this time causing enough of a space for him to roll out from under him while also knocking Lance over. Keith scrambles to the bed where he grabs a blanket and curls it around himself. Lance totally got a good look at the dude’s ass and it was fi~ine. Got that emoji peach going on.

“The hell are you two doing?” Marcus yells. Lance can already see the vein in his forehead which has never bowed well for him. “Seriously? It’s been one day, I thought we talked about this!” Marcus has turned his attention to Keith as he yells which, frankly, confuses Lance. Keith was quite clearly the one underneath, usually making the top be at fault, which in this case was Lance. Who is technically at fault.

“I didn’t do anything! He ran in here and jumped on me!” Keith yells back. Now hold up.

“I did not! It was an accident! I was excited and ran in here and tripped and we collided.” He says. And, now that he’s mentioned it, he’s very excited to inform the occupants of the room about his new revelation. “Oh! I figured something out while I was in the shower.” Lance turns to Keith, smiling. “I liked you before I knew you were my soulmate. I was thinking about things in the shower and realized that I’d been watching you for a while and the whole, rivalry BS, was simply me not realizing my feelings.” He watches as Keith’s eyes grow wide before narrowing. His eyes dip down quickly and then back up and then the suspicion is replaced with a glare.

“Try telling me that when you aren’t hard,” he says. Okay, point.

“No. Try never saying that again. Lance, you hated him, that wasn’t repressed feelings.” Marcus picks up a shirt from the floor and tosses it over to Lance. “And cover yourself up, please.”

“I didn’t actually hate him. I hated that he was always better than me. I wanted to be on equal ground with him, for him to talk to me like we were friends, but he never would. So I made up the whole rivalry so that he would have to see me. I just wanted his attention.” The more he talks the more he realizes how stupid he’d been.

“That’s…sound logic.” Keith looks like he actually believes him and that’s all he wants. He smiles wider and nods his head.

“That’s ridiculous. Lance, grab your clothes and get dressed in the bathroom, Keith get dressed in here and then both of you get downstairs for breakfast before the food gets cold.” Marcus looks and sounds 100% done with the both of them and this reoccurring discussion but he dutifully waits at the doorway for Lance to grab clothes and head back into the hallway. He takes a last look back at Keith and notices his eyes dart up quickly to meet his.

Was he just starring at his ass?

Lance smirks.


End file.
